


Seek and Chase

by livwrites



Series: Lily Luna Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: HPFT, F/M, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-05-29 15:05:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 71,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6381157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livwrites/pseuds/livwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prefect? Check. Gryffindor Chaser? Check.</p><p>Lily Potter knows what to expect from her 5th year. What she doesn't expect is to run into new student Jacob Walker. She doesn't expect to have him join her on the Quidditch Pitch. And she definitely doesn't expect to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return to Hogwarts (Lily)

"Come on, Lily! Let's get a compartment before there aren't any compartments left!"

That was my best friend, Sagitta Malfoy. Yes, I am Lily Potter and I am best friends with a Malfoy. My uncle Ron would be puking right now if Hugo wasn't friends with Corvus Malfoy. Apparently back when they were at Hogwarts (a really long time ago) Draco Malfoy and my parents hated each other. Now they're friends, mostly because our generation has forced them to.

"Lily! Come on, don't be a slowpoke!" Sagitta was coming towards me now, managing the unlikely feat of running while also dragging a trunk and carrying an owl's cage.

"Bye, Dad," I said, giving him one last hug. He nodded, and said, "Have fun at school, Lily. Remember to write."

"Yes, Dad." I never write. Entering my fifth year at Hogwarts, I think I have written my parents once, back in second year. ( _"Mum, I forgot my Charms textbook. Can you send it to me, please?"_ )

I followed Sagitta and dragged my trunk up the entrance to the train. Sometimes I really hated not being able to magic outside of school. Other times, I just made James do it - he's 21 and out of school, working with the Ministry. Bleargh. Boring.

Oh, yeah, did I mention I also had a broomstick to manhandle up the stairs? I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, playing Chaser, and that is probably what will keep me alive this year. I have been told by many people (read: Albus, James, and Teddy) that fifth year is horrible. Then Uncle Ron told me sixth is worse.

Oh joy. Not like I'll have anything other than once-a-week Quidditch practices to distract me from the monotony of school, and the Prefect duties I had been stuck with. Mum had been overjoyed, and Albus had given me an enthusiastic high five, telling me that we could patrol together. Yeah right.

I basically took the harder electives - Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and left the others. No boy would ever take a second look at me - with brown, wavy hair (originally red but James screwed up his home-grown Potions experiment, exploded his cauldron, and some of it landed on me), and brown eyes. I was of average height, meaning all the guys were now going through growth spurts and becoming taller than I was. Freckles dotted my face, from my mother's side of the family - why couldn't Weasleys have clear skin?

"Lily, you are being a slowpoke right now! Yes, maybe that stupid broom of yours is slowing you down a _bit_ , but you can still walk, right?"

I rolled my eyes as I finally wrestled the broom onto the train, and started wheeling my trunk down, following Sagitta as she looked for a compartment.

I suppose I should give you some backstory. Sagitta and I met in Potions, where Professor Slughorn assigned random partners and we got stuck together. She then proceeded to blow up my cauldron (and pretty much destroy the rest of the classroom). After that, she followed me around for a week apologizing and I eventually got sick of it, so of course then we became friends.

Funny how that works. Going back to her earlier comment about my stupid broom? The Nimbus 2020 is not stupid, she only calls it that because her attempt at flying failed miserably - she said "Up!" and the broom rose up and flew off.

Even though she's a Slytherin, we're still best friends. Things have really changed since my parents were at school. Oh, there's still a rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin at Quidditch, but it's a friendly rivalry - we don't hex the other team in the library while they do their homework.

I turned into the compartment Sagitta had found, dumped my broomstick off my shoulder, and fought a war with my trunk to get in the overhead compartment. I plopped down on the seat with a huff and pulled out a book from my bag.

"A book? You're reading a book _again_?" Sagitta doesn't read unless she has to.

"What's wrong with books?"

"They're boring."

"To you, maybe."

She was opening her mouth to reply when she looked at the door and her face lit up like one of those Muggle Christmas trees that Dudley Dursley had up once when Dad made us go.

"Hello, Jacob," she basically _crooned_ , and I looked up to see who this stranger was she was talking to. Mentally, my mouth dropped.

He was very good-looking. I don't usually describe teenage boys like that, but he was. He was gorgeous, as compared to the buffoons that usually populate Hogwarts. The only good-looking guy at Hogwarts is Scorpius, and he's basically married to my cousin Rose, so he's out. But this guy....

He was tall, about 6 feet or so, enough that the top of his head brushed the door frame. He had curly dirty-blond hair that was kept short & carefully groomed. He had a few freckles, but not a lot, and moderately thick eyebrows that sat over light brown eyes. As he smiled, he revealed a perfect set of teeth.

"Hi, Sagitta," he said. God, even his voice was perfect.

What the hell was wrong with me? I don't go head over heels for a guy. Ever. Okay, when I was 12 I had a crush on Scorpius, for about three weeks. At that point he was 15 and started dating Rose, so I gave up on it.

I sat there in shock for about 5 minutes while they talked about pointless crap, like how their summers were or how annoying their siblings were. When he excused himself and left, I turned to Sagitta.

"Who was that?"

"Jacob Walker," she answered. "Come on, Lily, you should know him, he's been in all our classes, and we've had everything but Herbology together. He's a Gryffindor fifth year as well."

"Why haven't I noticed him before?" I demanded.

She laughed. "Well, if you would bother to lift your eyes off of your parchment in class you would notice stuff."

"My eyes are not focused exclusively on the parchment in class."

"Yeah, they're focused on the book on your lap more."

"Touche."

We sat there, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts, until the lady arrived with the trolley.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" she asked, as usual.

Sagitta shook her head. I stood up, reached into my pocket for coins, grabbed a group of Chocolate Frogs, and paid the lady.

As I sat back down, I asked, "How long until we get to Hogwarts?"

"About 7 hours. Why?" Sagitta answered.

"Because I didn't get a lot of sleep last night - James was messing around - and I'm tired." As I said this I carefully placed my book on the floor and stretched out on the seat.

The next thing I knew Sagitta was shaking me.

"Wake up, silly! We get to Hogsmeade in half an hour. You need to put on your robes."

I sat up, sleepy, and reached up into my trunk to grab my robes. I quickly changed into them and sat back down again, pinning

"Better?" I asked grumpily.

"Better."

"Good," I said, and I picked up my book, an Arithmancy text Professor Vector had assigned as reading over the summer, and continued where I had left off. By the time we pulled into Hogsmeade I was finishing the last sentence.

As the train stopped I picked up my broomstick and let my trunk fall out of the top compartment. We joined the line in the aisle to get off the train, and, eventually, made it to the door, where I ungainly gave up on the idea of carrying it down the stairs. I was about to kick it and let it fall when a strong hand took it from me, nearly making me jump.

"Need some help?" I turned around to see who it was and found myself looking up - and up - into the eyes of Jacob Walker.

"Uh - yes, please," I stammered. Whenever I was surprised, like I just was, I tended to turn into this I watched as he easily hefted the trunk down the stairs. I followed him, waiting for him to put it down, but he didn't. Instead he carried it, in one hand, while he reached for what must be his trunk and carried it too. I caught up to him and said, "You know, I can carry my trunk now that we're off the train."

"No, I got you," he said. _Interesting way to word, "No, I can carry your trunk for you"_ , I thought to myself.

As I followed him I added, "I'm not sure why they changed the rule from last year."

He looked confused. "What was the rule from last year?"

I answered his question with another question as we climbed into a carriage together. I saw no sign of Sagitta anywhere, which was weird - we had always sat together. "Weren't you here last year?"

"No," he answered. "I was in Canada at Snowvale Magical Collegiate. Coldest four years of my life."

_Was that a joke?_ I wondered, noticing that I could speak to him a lot easier now - it must have been surprise at being startled by someone I barely knew.

"So how did you end up here?" I asked, as the carriage began moving. The trip from Hogsmeade up to Hogwarts only took about five minutes, and hopefully I could last that long in conversation. Usually, I either gave one-word answers or buried my face in a book, hoping to be ignored. Now, all my books were in my trunk, which he was resting his feet on, and no one else was sitting with us.

"My dad worked for the Canadian Ministry of Magic and he transferred here. He said it was boring and he wanted a change of pace. My mum and I came along too. He now works with the Ministry as an Auror."

"He works as an Auror? Then he probably knows my dad," I suggested.

"Who's your dad," he asked.

"Harry Potter," I said calmly. In my first year at Hogwarts, and in James and Albus's first years at Hogwarts as well, I had been swamped by people saying things like, 'Oh my gosh, you're Harry Potter's daughter!' Now people were used to it and it wasn't a big deal. In fact, most of the teachers either went to school with my dad or had taught him when he was in school.

"Your dad's Harry Potter?" he asked, obviously very surprised.

"Yep," I replied. By now we were passing through the main gates of Hogwarts. We only had a little more to go, and then we had to suffer through the Sorting before we could eat.

"One thing I'm confused about, though, is the fact that Sagitta said you were a Gryffindor fifth-year like me, and that you were in all my classes. How could that be possible if you were in Canada until this year?"

"She may have confused me with someone else," he said. "Although I did go to Hogwarts in the summer and got sorted and all that, and I ended up in Gryffindor, as you can probably see by my robes. All ready for O.W.L.s this year."

"What electives did you take?" I asked. By now we were pretty close to the top of the hill to get to the main entrance.

"Arithmancy and Ancient Runes," he said, standing up as the carriage rolled to a stop. "What do we do with our trunks?"

"I think we just leave them here and they'll be in our dorms after the Start-of-Term Feast," I said. "McGonagall sent home a letter during the summer."

"She did?"

"Yeah," I answered. We began to walk with everyone else to the Great Hall. "My mum was confused. She didn't understand why they would need to change the rule. Neither did I - it was much simpler before, when we just left our trunks on the train and they were brought to our dorms. It saves the hassle of fighting them down the stairs."

"You didn't have to fight your trunk down the stairs," he reminded me, as we entered the Great Hall.

"No, I was just going to kick it and let it fall. I had to fight it up the stairs at King's Cross, though," I said.

As we went to sat down, I turned and scanned the Slytherin table for Sagitta. There she was, sitting between Stoddard Lestrange and Hector Rivers, a sixth-year prefect. Why had she randomly disappeared?

I turned my head back to the front of the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall was standing. She looked old, stooped and wizened with age. Her hair, which had been black in my dad's time, was now a mixture of grey and white, judging by the strands that fell from under her hat. As she waited with behind a stool and the ever-familiar Sorting Hat, the first-year students walked in, led by Professor Vector.

They came slowly down the middle of the Hall, between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. I could hear the usual astonished exclamations at the ceiling (a point of surprise every year), as well as the customary frightened glances around. I leaned into Amanda Jordan, who I shared a dorm with, and said, "They're even smaller than the ones from last year."

"Were we that small?" she whispered back, and then motioned up to Professor McGonagall, who was addressing the first-year students.

"This is our sorting ceremony," she told them. "When I call your name you will come up here, place the hat on your head. It will call out a house and you will join them at their table. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin," indicating with her arm each table.

"James Bagman," she called. A small, seedy-looking blond-haired boy scrambled forward nervously and sat down on the stool. After a very long pause, the hat called out, "HUFFLEPUFF!", and the table erupted in cheers.

"Diana Bulstrode," she announced, and a large, mean-faced girl with long stringy brown hair marched forward, to be very quickly sorted into Slytherin house.

Amanda Deverill and Winifred Carter became Gryffindors. After that, I zoned out. I know that I was supposed to pay attention, as a Prefect. Come to think of it, I wasn't even sure how I got the badge. There are other girls in my year that would've done a better job than I think I'll end up doing.

I managed to make myself pay attention in time to hear the last first-year, Anita Yaxley, get sorted into Slytherin. Professor McGonagall promptly caused the chair and Sorting Hat to disappear, and stood in front of the speaker's lectern, hands clasped in front of her.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said, her voice sounding just as strong as it ever had. "For most of you, welcome back. This, so far, looks like it will shape up to be a pretty normal year. For those of you who went to school back when I taught Transfiguration, you know how unlikely a normal year was."

Was that joke aimed at my dad? I don't think he ever had a normal year.

"We have one new member of staff to introduce," she said. "Professor Hurst will be our new Ancient Runes teacher, for those of you taking the subject. Professor King has retired due to old age."

"He was only 175," Amanda muttered to herself, and I had to work very hard to suppress a snort of laughter.

"Now, I know you are all starving," McGonagall continued, "so it would be cruel of me to keep talking while you all want to eat, so... dig in!" She snapped her fingers and the food appeared right before us, steaming hot and ready to eat.

I was ravenous. I had skipped breakfast, too busy packing, and I had slept through lunch, so I basically hadn't had anything to eat all day. When you're starving, seeing food makes it hard to hold back. I basically stuffed myself for an hour, until the feast was over. When it was, McGonagall made the food vanish, and then announced, "Everybody will now proceed to your dormitories. Prefects, lead the first-years ahead now. The rest of you will wait." A nice change from when I was in my first-year; everybody left at once and you got trampled by the herd of seventh-years trying to go to bed.

I stood up. "Gryffindor first-years, follow me please." Was it just me? Where was the other fifth-year prefect? Oh well. I led the first-years out of the Great Hall and up the stairs. To be nice, I pointed out where their classes were to them as we went up: "Charms is down by the library, which is through this door. Transfiguration is in the courtyard that you get to from this door. Defense Against the Dark Arts is down here." I figured that since I never got an introduction when I was in my first-year I at least owed it to them. Every year we've heard a first-year running frantically down the hall to try and make it to their class on time.

We stopped at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Dumbledore," I said, and the portrait hole swung open. Naming the passwords after famous Gryffindors. I was beginning to think McGonagall was running out of ideas. Well, I didn't really care, as long as my Dad's name wasn't the one blocking me from getting into the common room.

"This is the common room," I told the new Gryffindors. "It basically functions as the center of all Gryffindor activity. Here you will do some of your homework, and gather after curfew. There are notices on the board over there. Now," I added, "your dormitories are through that door over there." I pointed to a door with brass hinges. "Girls are on the left, boys are on the right."

As they shuffled off, I flopped into one of the comfy chairs in front of the fire and waited for the rest of the house to show up. After what seemed like an hour, I got up, walked to the portrait hole, and opened it.

My entire house stood there. The _entire_ Gryffindor house, second-years up. I stood there, hands on my hips, just staring at them. They stared back at me, and nobody said anything until I demanded, "Why are you all out here? And why was I the only prefect leading the first-years up here?"

Jacob Walker stood at the front of the group. "Nobody told us the password," he said. "And I don't really know the answer to the second question."

I rolled my eyes. After being initially attracted to him on the train, that had cooled off. (I am an independent woman. Don't question me. To be fair, the one relationship I have been in lasted a month.) He seemed to be smarter than the rest of this house (which admittedly wasn't saying anything). "The password is Dumbledore," I said, and then stood aside to let the doofuses that made up most of Gryffindor in to the common room.

Well, to be fair, they weren't all doofuses. Our Quidditch team, for example, is amazing (well, what's left - our Seeker and both our Beaters graduated last year), and some of them are smart, but I'd say that most of the good genes were murdered in the wars against Voldemort.

Which didn't necessarily mean I wanted to socialize with any of them, so I went to bed. Yes, to a certain degree I am antisocial - in fact, many of my friends would say that I am completely antisocial unless I'm playing Quidditch. I tend to go to the library and bury myself in a book. My aunt Hermione and I are quite alike in that respect.

I usually go to sleep relatively quickly, and this night was no exception. I tossed and turned for about five minutes, then fell fast asleep.

* * *

Next followed the weirdest dream I've had in a long time. I was sitting in the common room with my ex-boyfriend, Joseph Hutton. (Our relationship lasted a month; we were dating at the end of the year and broke up right after exams.) Other than the two of us, we were alone. He leaned in to me, and then his face morphed into that of Jacob Walker.

What?

Jacob moved closer to me on the couch, at the same time running his hand up my leg. I wanted to pull away, to tell him I didn't _know_ him, but I couldn't. It was like I was being puppeteered by someone who had fallen asleep at the strings; I was completely helpless.

I didn't like being helpless. I was someone who prided themselves on being strong and independent, on not being reliant on other people to pass Arithmancy or stimulate their social life.

Mostly because I could pass Arithmancy all by myself and I didn't have a social life outside of Quidditch. I also wasn't one to be manipulated by a boy.

So when his hand began running even further _up_ than my leg, I awoke with a jolt, heart pounding. I didn't even know Jacob Walker. Why was I dreaming about doing things like that with him? For all I knew he could be a Dark Wizard that my dad would throw into Azkaban at the first opportunity. It was ridiculous. Yeah, I know, a Dark Wizard at fifteen isn't very likely, but I'm trying to make a point here, freaked out as I was. It was a really weird dream, okay?


	2. Arithmancy (Jacob)

I was just beginning to remember the monotony that was school. See, this is what summer does to you. You get home from school after writng your exams and then you sit and do nothing for two months, forgetting everything that you were supposed to have learned the previous year.  
  
   
  
Then you have to go back to school, where you are completely clueless about subjects you basically just wrote exams for. It's even worse when the subject is question is rather boring in-class. Like Arithmancy, for example. I had enjoyed the class back in Canada, but not as much here at Hogwarts. It might've been the teacher, Septima Vector, who I didn't really like, or it could've been the fact that the workload was a lot heavier than it was back at Snowvale.  
  
   
  
Another problem - at least for me, who spent the summer sleeping - was that the learning started basically the minute class started. In Arithmancy, we had a three-day review of earlier stuff, and then we jumped right into new material, while I was still adjusting to having to get up in the morning.  
  
   
  
This little spiel might make you think I'm lazy, but I'm not. We just started a lot later at Snowvale - 10:30 in the morning, as opposed to breakfast at 7, and -  
  
   
  
"Mr. Walker, please pay attention!"  
  
   
  
"Yes, Professor Vector," I said dutifully. She was okay, but if you drifted off, like I just did, she pounces on you.  
  
   
  
When she was done lecturing me for not paying attention, she returned to the lesson she was currently teaching. One month into the year and I think she had managed to lose a lot of the class. To her credit, it wasn't entirely her fault, but about half of us actually understood the lessons, judging from facial expressions and muttered comments during class. Listening in to conversations in the common room and in the Great Hall some people were barely scraping along. These were the people that attempted homework at the last minute. I did my homework as soon as possible, to get it over with so I could get it off my plate.  
  
   
  
Today's lesson focused on numerology, with Professor Vector introducing another chart. There were so many charts in Arithmancy that sometimes it was impossible to keep track of them all. This chart focused on using the sum of the letters in your name to predict your job. She explained that you needed to use all three names: first, middle, and last, in order for it to work properly. Then, once you had your sum, you did a complex mathematical problem using that number and other things about you and it gave you your job.  
  
   
  
At the end of the lesson, she turned to the front of the room and said, "For tomorrow, I want you to have made your calculation. I also want you to write a short paragraph explaining why or why not you think the chart was correct, based on what you want to do with your life. You will turn in that paragraph and your calculations at the end of class tomorrow."  
  
   
  
When the bell rang, signalling the end of classes for the day, I went to the library. I know that you're probably thinking, "What a nerd", but I'm not. I like getting my homework done early so I can focus on Quidditch, which I consider to be the best sport in the world. I had enjoyed it immensly back in Canada, where I played Seeker, and I was looking forward to the Quidditch season here, whenever it began.  
  
   
  
Carrying my school bag over my shoulder, I found an empty table, dumped the bag on the ground, and pulled out the Arithmancy homework, as well as a quill and several sheets of empty parchment.  
  
   
  
Staring at the chart I had copied down an hour ago, I wrote my name out on parchment. _Jacob George Walker,_ then, checking the chart, wrote down the numbers that went with it. Underneath that, I wrote down my birthday, April 22, 2008. I then proceeded to do the calculation, a long and arduous process which took me about half an hour.  
  
   
  
When I was finished, I looked down at my equation, and compared the answer with the chart. It didn't make any sense at all. _Bank teller,_ it said.  
  
   
  
"That can't possibly be right," I said aloud. I sat there, puzzled, and held up the roll of parchment with the offending equation on it. While I did this, I noticed Lily Potter sitting at the table next to me, watching me with a curious look in her brown eyes.  
  
   
  
"Stuck?" she asked, sounding amused.  
  
   
  
"Yes," I replied. "On the Arithmancy equation - I got bank teller, and that is most definitely wrong."  
  
   
  
She stood up and walked over to my table, bringing her bag and work with her, I noticed. She set her own Arithmancy work on my table, dropped the bag on the floor, and took my piece of parchment from my hand.  
  
   
  
After staring at it for a brief time, she put it down and said, "Try it again." I did, and got the same answer. I handed it back to her and waited with my arms crossed against my chest.  
  
   
  
"You got it wrong," she told me nonchalantly.  
  
   
  
"What are you, an Arithmancy whiz?" I demanded. "Let me see yours, then." She handed it to me and I scanned it, then gave it back to her triumphantly.  
  
   
  
"You got yours wrong as well." She stared at it dubiously, and then I could see realization dawn in her eyes as she spotted her mistake.  
  
   
  
"Well," she said, "I'll fix mine, you fix yours, and then we can swap again."  
  
   
  
I nodded in agreement and returned to my equation. I couldn't find the error she had spotted - everything looked correct. It was virtually identical to the example Professor Vector had done on the chalkboard - except for the numbers, of course.  
  
   
  
"You know," I muttered, "I might just leave it. It would make the paragraph easier to write - 'The equation is wrong because I would bash my brains out on a wall if I was forced to be a bank teller for more than five minutes.'"  
  
   
  
Lily laughed, showing a full row of white, even teeth. She held up her own parchment, with the error now fixed.  
  
   
  
"I already know what I'm going to write for my paragraph," she said casually. "The equation is right because I would bash MY brains out on the wall, right next to yours, if I was doing anything other than playing Quidditch."  
  
   
  
Quidditch! My favourite sport.  
  
   
  
"You play Quidditch here?" I asked, trying to keep my heart rate down. I don't know why I was like this. Yes, I was excited about the prospect of playing Quidditch (although for some reason I had left my broom at home), but I shouldn't be _this_ excited. It was like I had a crush on somebody and was trying not to mess up my words while talking to them.  
  
   
  
"Yes," Lily replied, jerking me out of my reverie. "It's a big deal, with the House Cup - it's how we get the majority of our points. Do you play?" she asked.  
  
   
  
"I was Seeker for the Snowvale Quidditch team," I told her.  
  
   
  
"Our tryouts are in three days," she told me. "And we need a Seeker - ours graduated last year. You should try out."  
  
   
  
"Really?" I said. "I didn't know if you guys played Quidditch or not."  
  
   
  
She stared at me. "Jacob, there was a sign on the noticeboard in the common room announcing the tryouts. In three days, at 3:30, on the Quidditch pitch." When she finished telling me this, she stared at me. Or at my chest, rather.  
  
   
  
"You have a prefect badge on your chest," she informed me. I looked down instinctively. Professor Longbottom had given it to me last night, telling me that he hadn't gotten my marks from Snowvale until that day. I'm not quite sure why it took a month to send a piece of parchment containing 4 Outstandings and 4 Exceeds Expectations, but apparently it did. I told her Lily that, and she rolled her eyes.  
  
   
  
"No wonder I was the only fifth-year escorting the first-years to the common room the first night," she said. "You do know about prefect duties, right?"  
  
   
  
"Yes," I told her. "Professor Longbottom went through that with me."  
  
   
  
"Good," she said, and then she finished her paragraph and stuffed the parchment, quill, and ink bottle into her bag. "I need to go and get something to eat."  
  
   
  
That was a good idea, I realized, as my stomach growled quite loudly. I packed up my own stuff and followed Lily out of the library and to the Great Hall.  
  
   
  
* * *  
  
   
  
That night, I wrote my parents. I did it occasionally, but I didn't make it a habit. I didn't hate my parents or anything - I just needed the feeling of being independent.  
  
   
  
 _Dear Dad_ , I wrote. I had originally intended to write a letter to both of them, but my parents worked different shifts and my dad would be home when the owl arrived. Besides, he would be more inclined to send a broomstick to Hogwarts, which was the main purpose of this letter.  
  
   
  
 _  
  
  
I'm settling in nicely. The classes are no harder than they were at Snowvale. I met a nice girl, Lily Potter. It's not what you think - we're not dating, although I know you would love for me to get a girlfriend, it hasn't happened yet. This early in the year, we barely know each other. However, she did tell me one thing that I think is important.  
  
   
  
_  
I don't know if that was phrased right, but I didn't feel like trying again, so I kept going.  
  
   
  
 _  
  
  
Quidditch is just as important here as it was back in Canada, and I would like to try out for the Gryffindor house team. However, I left my broom at home, since I didn't know whether or not I'd need it. Could you please send it to me? I know it's a long way, but Quidditch is important to me (as you know).  
  
   
  
Love, Jacob  
  
   
  
_  
   
  
I finished the letter and leaned back against the pillow of my bed. It was 8, and I had an hour before I had to start patrolling the corridors with Lily to make sure that first-years weren't breaking their curfews. I thought 9 was a little early for an eleven-year-old to be restricted to ther common room, but I don't think my opinion really mattered in that context.  
  
   
  
I sent my owl off with the letter to my father, and then returned to my bed, thinking. I hadn't been completely truthful with him. I knew Lily more than I had let on to him - we sat beside each other in Transfiguration, and had a long time to talk while we waited for the majority of our class to catch up with us. Not all of them were slow - Hugo Weasley, who I shared this dorm room with, worked just as fast as I did, and sat patiently helping his partner while Lily and I talked. Frankly, I was surprised he hadn't been chosen Prefect.  
  
   
  
I did like Lily, too. Well, I suppose I should change that sentence and say that I was fond of her. I don't think that you can know somebody for not even a month and develop a crush on them - at least, I can't. She had a good sense of humour, which was readily apparent if you talked to her about school. Even at dinner tonight she had made me laugh so hard I was afraid I was going to choke on my mashed potatoes, and I didn't think spewing them all over the table would've made a very good impression, either.  
  
   
  
We had been talking of the differences between Hogwarts and Snowvale, and I had mentioned the fact that the Herbology greenhouses at Snowvale were inside, "so you didn't have to go out in the cold. That way you didn't freeze your butt off," I had said.  
  
   
  
Just as quickly she had come back with, "Here you don't freeze your butt off. It gets bitten off it you turn your back on some of the more dangerous plants." Picturing some of the fanged monstrosities sitting in the greenhouses, I knew exactly what she was talking about.  
  
   
  
It was 8:45, and I figured I might as well join Lily in the common room and start patrolling early. I grabbed my wand, solid black with a dark wooden handle, and put it in the pocket of my robes, where I could get to it if I needed. It wasn't really that I was afraid of being attacked. It was more the fact that my dorm contained three pranksters who liked stealing things, and I had no intention of letting my wand get stolen. That being said, I left the dorm, went down the stone steps, trying not to slide down them ungracefully on my butt. That would've been a way to make an entrance into the common room. Hey, first-years, look at your clumsy prefect! He wants to join the Quidditch team but he can't walk down a flight of stairs.  
  
   
  
Safely at the bottom, without falling down the stairs, I feel happy to add, I found Lily sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, looking quite comfortable with a book. I tapped on her shoulder and she jumped.  
  
   
  
"That's a big book," I said. And it was. The book was so big she had to put it on her lap, instead of holding it.  
  
   
  
She looked up at me, and said something unbelievable, at least to my ears. "What do you mean, big? It's only 1500 pages!"  
  
   
  
 _Only_ 1500? My mind was boggled. "What do you mean only 1500?"  
  
   
  
"Well," she said, looking defiant, "I like gigantic books." Seeing the expression on my face, she crossed her arms over her chest. "What? I can be athletic and bookish at the same time!" She got up from the couch and went up to her dormitory, presumably to drop the mother of all monster books off so she could patrol.  
  
   
  
"Okay, let's go," she said, considering we were now late, and we stepped out the portrait hole.


	3. The Disadvantages of Being a Prefect

After an uneventful patrol, which was the way I liked it, Jacob and I returned to the common room and went to our separate beds. To be honest, I was looking forward a lot to the tryouts for our time. I knew I would be back on the team - I had spent most of the summer playing Quidditch - and I was ready.

I was also looking forward to seeing just how good Jacob was. The way he reacted in the library earlier today when I mentioned Quidditch... he was definitely into it. What I wanted to know was if he was any good. There are a lot of people that I know that follow Quidditch and are avid fans of Puddlemere United or the Holyhead Harpies yet wouldn't be able to hit a Bludger with a Beater's bat even if it was floating, still, right before their eyes. Besides, we needed a new Seeker.

Don't get me wrong - Jacob Walker is not the sole reason why I'm looking forward to Quidditch. Our Quidditch team last year was almost like a family. I was particularly eager to feel that sort of kinship again. It was kind of like my own family (and the plethora of cousins that I had), but different. Our Quidditch team spent a lot of time with each other, outside of normal practicing. It had been like that for as long as I had been on the team - since my second year. We even got together during the summer and played as a team - usually against my family, since we had the most people - and I think this contributed to the fact that we've won the Quidditch Cup two out of the past three years. The other year Ravenclaw won; it was in my second year and our Seeker got suspended for being an idiot in class, and the backup sucked. So we lost.

Ladies and gentlemen, that is why you behave yourself in class in the weeks leading up to an important game. Because if you don't, your team has a better chance of being creamed. Like we were.

But in order to get to those Quidditch tryouts, where we would see who would be joining our close-knit family. I will admit that I was hoping, already, having only known him for a month, that Jacob Walker would succeed in getting the Seeker position. In tryouts, it's the only one that doesn't involve players that have already made the team. For Keeper, you're going against the existing Chasers, and vice versa. Beaters depend on being able to injure their own teammates.

With that lovely thought in mind, I climbed into bed, yanking the red curtains shut and pulling my duvet up over myself. Sleep came quickly. It always does after a patrol.

In the morning, I woke reluctantly, and tried hard to resist the temptation to ignore the breakfast bell and go back to sleep with my pillow shoved over my ears. I was hungrier than I was sleepy, though, so I got up, albeit with a long yawn, dressed, and shuffled down to the Great Hall. My first goal was some coffee. If I didn't get any energy I would fall asleep in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Blenkinsop doesn't appreciate people snoring when he was teaching. None of the teachers do, but he's just a bit nastier about it. Now, just because he's the head of Slytherin doesn't mean I'm prejudiced or anything (or that he's prejudiced. I've seen him rip apart kids from his own house for snoozing during a lesson).

As I got to the Great Hall and found the coffee I had been desiring, I looked around. You could tell who had been stuck patrolling last night. The Hufflepuff prefects looked just as tired as I felt, the Ravenclaw prefects had crooked ties and untucked shirts, and one of the Slytherin prefects was sleeping in front of their plate of toast.

I grabbed a piece of toast for myself, and was buttering it when Declan Fowler, our Quidditch captain, walked in and sat down opposite me. Declan was a big hulking guy, about 6'2 or so, and in his seventh year, his second as team captain. As he took a bowl of strawberries, he brushed his long black hair out of his eyes and told me, "Quidditch tryouts are postponed for three days."

I took a bite, swallowed, and then said, "Why?"

"Professor Hurst assigned a killer Ancient Runes assignment, and I want to get it out of the way before holding tryouts." He grimaced. "I love seventh-year Ancient Runes." He made no attempt to hide his sarcasm.

"I guess I know what I have to look forward to," I said unenthusiastically. "Why, oh, why didn't I take easy electives? Although," I added, considering, "I could just play professional Quidditch when I leave Hogwarts."

"True," Declan acknowledged. "But it's good to have a backup plan just in case. What would you do, Lily, if your dream of playing professional Quidditch fell through?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. I'd probably go be an Auror, work under my dad. I like spellwork, and apparently Blenkinsop's doing practical duels in class today."

"Those were always fun," he said. "Although now I spend more time trying to understand just what is going on than actually enjoying the class."

"Seventh-year sounds like loads of fun," I said sarcastically, as the bell rang.

"Already?" Declan said, sounding very surprised. "I swear it's only been ten minutes since we sat down."

"Time flies when you're hungry," I told him.

"Very funny," he said, as we both rose to go to our classes. "Don't forget, Lily, tryouts are now three days away, not tomorrow, and same time. I expect you to be there - we need our star chaser back."

I nodded, and finished my toast as I joined the crowd to go to Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I wasn't really the star chaser of our Quidditch team. It was more the fact that last year James played Chaser for us, before he graduated, and we made an awesome team. Having the whole summer to practice together helps in the teamwork department. But now James was gone, working for the Department of Magical Games and Sports as a Quidditch referee. Don't ask me why he isn't actually playing the game professionally - he's good enough - because I didn't think he was the type to work for the Ministry. I thought he would've joined Uncle George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

So far, the two of us were the only ones to play Quidditch for our house teams. Albus turned out to be the shy and bookish type, and, surprisingly, none of my cousins play (or had played, before they graduated).

Thinking about Quidditch, I was in a good mood until about five minutes into class. Professor Blenkinsop had already rearranged the room to provide more space for duels. There was even a stage, which he was standing on now, surrounded by my class in a big group, which I quickly joined. On the blackboard at the front of the room was a list of duels, which so far was empty. There were two columns. The first showed the pairings, and the second the winners, and their houses. Both of them were blank.

"Over the next week or so you will be dueling each other," he announced. "I have a mini-tournament set up with pairings that I will randomly draw. In addition to marks, I thought there should be additional incentive to do well, so I made this a Gryffindor vs. Slytherin tournament. Yes, I am fully aware that I'm the Head of Slytherin House," he added sheepishly. "To avoid being biased, Professor Flitwick, a former dueling champion himself, will be judging."

Flitwick was sitting on a stack of books off to the side of the stage. I hadn't even noticed him.

Blenkinsop held up two hats; one red, one green, before letting go of them, leaving them to float in the air. He pulled a name from each hat and looked at them briefly. "The first matchup is Elise Stretton from Slytherin against Jacob Walker from Gryffindor."

Elise Stretton was a small, timid-looking girl with mousy black hair and a pair of lonely grey eyes. Gryffindor and Slytherin had shared Defense Against the Dark Arts classes the whole time I had been at Hogwarts, and I had seen her cast spells; she was okay, but if Jacob was any good, he'd win.

They got up on the stage and bowed properly to each other. As they straightened I noticed just how much shorter Elise was - the top of her head was halfway up his chest.

The duel itself lasted one spell. Jacob cast a Disarming Charm as soon as Professor Blenkinsop said "Three". It ripped Elise's wand out of her hand and sent her flying backwards.

"Victory goes to Mr. Walker," Professor Flitwick announced. Blenkinsop flicked his wand, and the results were shown on the blackboard. Jacob and Elise got off the stage, and Blenkinsop pulled two more names out of the hats.

"The next duel," he announced, "will be between Stoddard Lestrange and Lily Potter."

My good mood instantly vanished. It wasn't that I was afraid of dueling - being the youngest in a largely-male family sometimes you have to draw your wand - but I really, really didn't like Stoddard Lestrange. He was, to put it plainly, an asshole. In grudging fairness to him, being the nephew of Bellatrix Lestrange had caused people to treat him coldly, particularly the relatives of people she had killed. Rabastan Lestrange - his father - and Rodolphus might be locked up in Azkaban for the rest of their lives, but the fact that they had kids who were given full privileges rankled with a few people. Personally, I tried to ignore it, leading the example set by my dad.

But this Lestrange was a jerk, and it was, at least in my opinion, completely unrelated to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. He seemed to embody the former Slytherin house stereotype - arrogant, supportive of the downfallen values of pure-blood supremacy, rude, that sort. Blenkinsop himself didn't like him, and it wasn't surprising that he hadn't been made prefect.

So as I reached past the silver 'P' badge on my robes and drew my wand before heading onto the stage, I knew I would be trying my hardest to beat him. I was fairly confident in my chances of doing that - when your father is the head of the Auror office you tend to pick up some nasty hexes and jinxes. Stoddard Lestrange probably knew a respectable amount of them as well, but I was willing to bet I could overcome that, or at least cause a stalemate, in which case the duel wouldn't count.

"The duel will begin on the count of three," Blenkinsop said. "One-" I wondered what spell Lestrange would be preparing right now - "Two-" Maybe I'd Stun him - "Thr-"

He didn't wait, and I barely managed to duck under the jet of white light that passed harmlessly inches over my head and loudly demolished the staircase.

"Mr Lestrange!" Flitwick barked. "You are not to cast a spell before the count of three is up! And you are most certainly not to be transforming this classroom into a pile of rubble!"

"Yes, Professor," Stoddard replied insolently. I don't know why he sounded the way he did, uncivil and confrontational. Then he looked coldly back at me and the duel was on again.

I didn't wait for him. Two years of summers spent watching Teddy and James go at it at the Burrow had shown me that you were not supposed to let your opponent recover. From anything. Quickly, I focused as hard as I could, and pushed a jet of red light out of my wand.

It had worked! I had spent a lot of the summer working on those stupid nonverbal spells (apparently they were used next year), but I had never actually been able to get it to work. And he blocked it. Great. Well, at least I get the satisfaction of having successfully cast it.

"Nonverbal spells, Potter?" he mocked. "I know a few myself." He silently cast his own Stunning Spell in my direction. I was so focused on his taunt that I wasn't paying attention to what he was actually doing and I barely managed to get a Shield Charm up in time.

Dad had taught me better than that! I grimaced to myself and began thinking for good hexes to finish the duel with, while letting my reflexes take over. As I dodged a Knockback Jinx - that was a second-year spell - one hex in particular came into my head. Hmm.. my mother's specialty...

I thought that I should cast this spell nonverbally - in my opinion the incantation sounded rather silly. A jet of dark blue light erupted from the end of my wand, soared past Stoddard's outstretched arm, and hit him in the face.

The impact of it drove him back six feet, but he remained standing. That wasn't really my concern, though, because the effects of the hex wouldn't be long now. In fact, as I finished that thought the first bat came flying out of his nose, to his deep consternation.

One of the things I liked about the Bat-Bogey Hex was that the victim of it was unable to do anything but try and get rid of the bats, which, in a duel, left them wide open.

So Stoddard Lestrange, bent over as bat number two emerged, was a perfect target for my Full Body-Bind Curse. He went sprawling backwards, and Professor Flitwick announced the victory in my favour before muttering the countercurse. I jumped off the stage and rejoined the large group that was my classmates as Professor Blenkinsop posted my victory on the blackboard.

Then Stoddard got up from the floor, and he looked mad. Maybe it was because he had been beaten in the first round of the tournament; he was, after all, a skilled duelist. He jumped off the stage and landed quite loudly. I wouldn't have been surprised if another class had heard him.

After that, the rest of the class seemed, at least to me, to pass by relatively quickly. By the end of the double period, we were halfway through the first round of dueling. So far, the Slytherins had a 2 to 1 advantage over us in numbers (as to who had moved on). Sagitta had safely passed into round two, and she was really the only Slytherin I was cheering for. I know Slytherin isn't the outcast house it used to be, but you still support your own housemates.

The bell signalling lunch rang, and I left the classroom gratefully, already imagining the sandwiches that were waiting in the Great Hall. When I went to sit down, though, Stoddard Lestrange was waiting for me.

"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply. "You're a Slytherin. Go eat at the Slytherin table."

"I'm not here to eat," he said coldly. Then he smiled. "Unless you want me to eat with you, that is."

"No." I breathed in and said, "What is it you want?"

"What was that hex you used on me in our duel?" he demanded.

"The Bat-Bogey Hex," I told him. "My mother's specialty."

"And you used it as a diversion?" He angrily crossed his arms over his chest.

"No," I said, "I used it as part of a strategy to beat you." I smiled back at him.

He huffed and retorted, "I'm looking forward to the start of Quidditch season, Potter. You might want to watch out for all the Bludgers I'll be sending your way," before finding himself a place at the Slytherin table to eat his lunch.

I sat down and Jacob was right beside me.  
"So, you and Lestrange, huh?" he teased.

I glared at him. "No. No no no no no. We hate each other." I emphasized the word hate just so he could understand fully, and reached for a sandwich.

"Are you sure?" he asked playfully. "A lot of the time, when you pretend to hate somebody, you're really hiding romantic feelings."

I dropped my sandwich in my goblet of orange juice. "Jacob," I said, turning to look at him, "did you hit your head on anything on the way down here?"

"No."

"Positive?"

"I'm positive. Now," he added, sounding more serious, "from what I've know of him - having to share a cauldron with him in Potions - which sucks, by the way," he added bitterly, "he's up to something."

"Up to something?" I asked, gingerly fishing my sandwich out of my orange juice.

"Yes," he said. "And by that I mean trouble. Pranks. Things that a pair of prefects such as ourselves wouldn't find funny."

"Wonderful," I grumbled. This sandwich was toast, so I grabbed another one.

"Knowing him," Jacob continued, "if he is planning a prank, it'll be fairly soon."

"Yay, pranks," I said sarcastically. "I wonder if he'll be considerate enough to wait until our turn to patrol comes around again."

"Ugh, I hope not."

It turned out that Stoddard Lestrange had been waiting. He just wasn't waiting for our next patrol. We had other patrols than the ones at night (which were alternated), and we saw nothing, vigilant as we were. Then, the night that it was our turn to patrol, he acted.

I remember the start of the patrol quite well. We walked out of the common room and down the stairs. If you're reading this and you know Hogwarts, you might recall that there is a staircase that's missing a stair. When you step on it, your foot goes through and you get stuck.

Well, Jacob found that missing stair. He was stuck for a while; even after I had finished laughing I couldn't help him out; he was a lot heavier than I was, and I'm not exactly strong.

He ended up awkwardly lifting himself out.

"Well," he said, when he was finally standing on solid ground again, "that was embarrassing."

"Now you know that there isn't a stair there," I told him.

"And how come nobody else has fallen into it before?" he inquired, eyebrows raised. He set off down the stairs.

"Everybody else knows where it is and skip the step," I said, as I trailed behind.

We walked in silence until we got where we were going; the Slytherin dungeons. I wasn't entirely sure why a pair of Gryffindor prefects were assigned the Slytherin dungeons when there are Slytherins that can do it just as well. Also, I was worried that Stoddard Lestrange would be more eager to misbehave if he could get to his common room quickly.

When he made his move, it surprised me with how simple it was. One of Uncle George's Portable Swamps, in the middle of the hall. Jacob stood, wand in his hand, staring at it.

"What is this?" he asked slowly.

I stared at it. "I believe it's a Portable Swamp. My uncle makes them."

"And your uncle is where I got it from," I heard Stoddard say. I looked up and saw him on the other side of the gigantic mess that had become this hall. "I'd say I did a pretty good job, wouldn't you think?" he added, twirling his wand in his hand.

Jacob glared at him. "You're supposed to be in bed," he said.

"Supposed to be," Stoddard replied, with a smirk. "But who needs rules?"

"You do," we replied at the same time. Jacob added, "Judging from the way you act in Potions."

Stoddard wasn't affected at all by this retort. "I'll just leave you two to clean this up while I go back to bed." He turned to leave, walked a few steps, then said over his shoulder, "I strongly doubt you know how to get rid of one of these, and when you run to a teacher, blaming me, it'll be your word against that of the entire Slytherin house."

Jacob shot a venomous look in his direction, raised his wand, and - before I could stop him - muttered the incantation for the Trip Jinx, which caused Stoddard to fall and slide into a statue. He didn't get up. I turned and looked at him angrily.

"I know he's an asshole, but did you have to attack him?"

  
"Yes," he said, and didn't elaborate further, waiting in silence while I stared, brow furrowed, at the mess of this hall.

"Well," I said finally, "I'm going to get Professor Flitwick. I think he's the best one to get rid of this."

"You do that," he said. "I'm going to stay here and watch him." He jerked his head in Stoddard's direction.

I left the hall and went to get Professor Flitwick. When we got to the doorway leading to the dungeons, I was explaining to him our story when we walked into the hall.

Oh, the swamp was still there all right. But Stoddard, instead of having been lying unconscious before a statue, was gone, and instead Jacob was the one on the ground, his wand knocked out of his hand. When he saw us, he slowly rolled over, groaning as he did so.

"What happened to you?" I demanded. He had a long cut on the side of his forehead.

"I didn't watch him well enough," he said grimly, and picked up his wand. He wiped it off and put it back in his robes.

Professor Flitwick stood looking at the swamp, and then he pulled his wand out and Vanished it, with one wave.

"I will be going to the Slytherin common room," he said. "Mr. Walker, you might want to go get that cut checked out by Madam Pomfrey."

Madam Pomfrey, as it turns out, thought it was a relatively minor cut. She healed it in seconds. Then she sent us back on patrol, which, as it turned out, was uneventful. When we finally returned to the common room, my feet were dragging and I was fighting a losing battle to keep my eyes open. Before trudging up the stairs to my dormitory, I got a glimpse of the time from the clock hanging above the fireplace. It was 4 o'clock in the morning. It didn't look like I was going to get a good night's sleep tonight. That fact was rather important to me, considering we had tryouts tomorrow.


	4. Quidditch Tryouts (Jacob)

I really am not a morning person. The only reason I'm sitting in the Great Hall right now is because of Quidditch tryouts and I have my heart set on being on the team. All I need now is my broom. I'd heard jokes about the school brooms, about how they can only fly six feet above the ground or go in the direction opposite the one you want to fly in. Besides, I was pretty sure that being suddenly flown into the ground wouldn't help my chances of playing Seeker.  
  
   
  
As I buttered my toast, the mail came in. I glanced up and searched among the incoming owls, looking for one carrying a broomstick. It shouldn't be that hard to spot.  
  
   
  
There. A large brown owl, carrying a long brown package in its claws. I had been waiting eagerly for my broom. I don't even know why I didn't bring it with me, to be honest. I also don't know why I thought that nobody played Quidditch here. I guess I lived in a hole. Didn't I read the sports stories in the papers, articles that said things like " _English National Quidditch team coach resigns,"_ or other drama? It went right over my head, the article about the _Quidditch_ team. Cheers for reading stuff without actually reading it.  
  
   
  
I stood up and caught my broom before it landed on the table and sent breakfast flying everywhere. That would be a great way to start the day off, dousing everybody in pumpkin juice and bits of toast. Not that it couldn't be cleaned up quickly - with magic, there is a shortcut for everything - but I really didn't feel like making my housemates angry at me because a broom conveniently happened to land in someone's porridge. No thank you. Not knowing where to put my broom, I (very awkwardly) flipped it around and put it on the floor by my feet. Success - I only nearly beheaded one person, a second-year Hufflepuff who was quite possibly the shortest person I had ever seen.  
  
   
  
Lily came in when I was finishing my second piece of toast. Looking like she hadn't slept a wink, she sat down beside me and eyed my full plate appraisingly.  
  
   
  
"Are you sure you want to eat that much food?" she asked.  
  
   
  
"Yes," I answered. "Why not eat? I'm hungry, and the normal course of action when one is hungry is to eat."  
  
   
  
"Sarcasm isn't going to hide the fact that playing Quidditch on a full stomach isn't the best idea," she told me.  
  
   
  
"And you know this... how?" I raised my eyebrows.  
  
   
  
"Jacob," she said matter-of-factly, "pretty much my entire family either plays Quidditch or has something to do with it. My mother is a former professional Chaser! She retired from the Holyhead Harpies six or seven years ago and now she's the Quidditch reporter at the _Prophet_." She laid special emphasis on the word Quidditch. "So I think it would be pretty obvious what we do on family gatherings."  
  
   
  
"Quidditch?" I guessed. Go for the obvious option first.  
  
   
  
"Most of us play Quidditch. Those of my family that don't like being off the ground - like my cousin Hugo, or my aunts Hermione and Fleur - how they would hate being right next to each other, they don't like each other at all - keep score, cheer us on, or simply ignore the game. My family is pretty big, so we easily have enough people for two teams." She poured herself some coffee, looking very grumpy.  
  
   
  
"Don't like being up in the morning?" I asked teasingly.  
  
   
  
She stared at me with a deadpan expression in her eyes. "Morning and any word related to being happy are completely different things and do not belong in the same sentence," she informed me. "Besides, Declan isn't stupid - nobody on our team would get up before noon if they had the option to sleep in, so he schedules practice accordingly."  
  
   
  
"Declan?" Who's Declan? By the sound of it, he's the team captain, which means I just wasted my breath on the question. Might as well waste some more breath. "He's the team captain, isn't he."  
  
   
  
"Yes," she replied. She took a sip - a generous sip - of her coffee and then pulled a pocketwatch out of her pocket. "No bells on the weekend. Tryouts are this afternoon at three-thirty. I don't believe anybody told you that." That last sentence was phrased more like a question.  
  
   
  
"No." People were beginning to leave the Great Hall now, probably to go back to bed or finish homework. I myself am not a morning person, but I think that if you're first waking up in time for lunch, you need to go to bed earlier. Or prioritise your time and get homework done first so you aren't stressing.  
  
   
  
Admittedly, I'm very bad about that last one. Although, sometimes it comes in handy. Being able to write an accurate Transfiguration essay worth an E in about ten minutes might be helpful later in life.  
  
   
  
Might be helpful for other people that also have that ability, I mean. I personally don't plan to write any essays after I graduate Hogwarts. My goal, post-graduation, is to play Quidditch.  
  
   
  
Speaking of Quidditch, maybe I should go practice.  
  
   
  
"What time is it now?" I asked Lily.  
  
   
  
"Twelve," she said.  
  
   
  
"I'm going to go practice," I told her, doing my best to ignore the confused expression on her face. Confused isn't the best word to describe the look she had. Lily's facial expression communicated one word: Why.  
  
   
  
"There is an hour and a half until practice. Why are you going to practice now? Yes, I go early, but only like half an hour!"  
  
   
  
I had a sudden idea. "You want to come out and practice with me before tryouts? It gets rather lonely all by myself." I nearly said "You want to go out with me?" No. Not what I meant to say. At all.  
  
   
  
She considered for a moment. "Not like I was going to do that Charms homework anyways," she said. "I need to go get my broom - I'll meet you on the Quidditch pitch in ten minutes."  
  
   
  
It turned out to be fifteen. I sat on my broom, about fifty feet up, holding the Snitch I had bought myself this summer. Lily came out, wearing what I looked like the Gryffindor Quidditch robes and holding her broom and a ball, presumably the Quaffle. Bludgers don't hold still like that.  
  
   
  
She flew up to meet me. "Jeans and a Gryffindor sweater?" she questioned.  
  
   
  
I held up my hands defensively and said "I didn't know what to wear."  
  
   
  
"I thought wardrobe issues were a girl thing," she mused. "How are we going to practice?"  
  
   
  
"Uhhh... I hadn't actually thought about that," I admitted.  
  
   
  
"Really?"  
  
   
  
"Really."  
  
   
  
"Well," Lily sighed. "There's no point in sitting here doing nothing; otherwise we could just go inside. I suggest that we throw the Quaffle back and forth, you release the Snitch, and if you see it you go after it."  
  
   
  
I don't like throwing Quaffles around. I'm a Seeker for a reason - to avoid that stupid ball. I hate it even more than I do Bludgers.  
  
   
  
You see, when I was about three or four, my family went to a Quidditch game. It wasn't a big game or anything; one of my cousins played for a minor farm team of a major Quidditch team, which might've been Puddlemere United - I don't remember.  
  
   
  
I already enjoyed Quidditch; little me couldn't get enough of the game. That is, until one of the Chasers missed a catch and the Quaffle fell into the stands where I was sitting and hit me smack-dab on the head. Since then, I've had a fear of being hit with one (a completely irrational fear, I've been told several times.)  
  
   
  
"Fine," I agreed gloomily, while mentally chanting _It's just a ball_ over and over. I opened my hand and let the Snitch go. It flew around my head once and disappeared.  
  
   
  
"Okay, let's go," Lily said, and threw the Quaffle to me. I caught it on the tips of my fingers and threw it back to her. She easily handled it.  
  
   
  
"I see you're a Seeker for a reason," she teased.  
  
   
  
"Uhhh... yeah," I said, and managed to catch this throw without nearly dropping it.  
  
   
  
We passed back and forth for a while, and time began to blur. Not once did I see the Snitch, which hopefully wasn't a sign. Eventually more people began filing onto the pitch, and Lily signaled for us to stop. I gave up on the Snitch and Summoned it, putting my wand back into my robes as I landed to join everybody else, which was a group of about twelve or so people.  
  
   
  
The captain of the Quidditch team was a tall guy, about my height. As he talked he had to keep brushing his long black hair out of his eyes. Considering it wasn't windy at all, he needed a haircut.  
  
   
  
"My name is Declan Fowler," he said, "and as you can probably tell, I'm captaining our Quidditch team this year. First, let's go through the obvious. You need a broom. A school broom will be an okay substitute for this tryout, but I think everybody here knows the, uh, _quality_ of the school brooms. If you make the team, you need to buy your own."  
  
   
  
He paused. "If anybody doesn't know how to fly, you can leave now. Last year we had someone try out and they didn't know what a Snitch was, let alone how to use a broom."  
  
   
  
Nobody left. "Okay," Declan said, "we are holding tryouts for Seeker and both Beaters. If you're trying out for Beater, mount your broom and fly to the far hoops. If you're trying out for Seeker, fly to the middle of the pitch."  
  
   
  
About four or five people flew to the far hoops, all thick guys that would have fit right in on a football field.  
  
   
  
I mounted my broom and went to the middle of the pitch. All by myself. That's weird. Seeker is usually the most prestigious position on the team, so normally a lot of people would show up and try out for it. Apparently I was the only one.  
  
   
  
Does this mean I automatically get the position? Half of me wants to prove myself and the other half wants to take not having to beat anybody for the chance to be Seeker and run.  
  
   
  
The rest of the team, the people from last year, all flew up.  
  
   
  
"We only have one prospective Seeker?" Declan asked disbelievingly.  
  
   
  
"Apparently," Lily answered. She sat easily on her broom, appearing very laid-back. "Maybe it's because Demelza was Seeker for so long people forget she's graduated."  
  
   
  
"She's playing for the Holyhead Harpies. How can people forget?" another girl asked. She looked uninterested by this exchange; she was fiddling with her hair. I don't know why; it looked fine to me.  
  
   
  
"I think what we're going to do," Declan said slowly as he waved in the Beater tryouts, "is set up a sort of small game. We don't have enough people for a scrimmage, unfortunately. Michael," he gestured at one boy, "you, Lily, and Jason practice scoring. You Beater tryouts will go down, two at a time, and get bats. You'll rotate on the field, trying to hit people. Don't worry, Madam Pomfrey's on standby. We'll be fine." He turned to me. "I'm sorry, I don't know your name."  
  
   
  
"Jacob," I said.  
  
   
  
"Okay. Jacob, you're going to chase the Snitch. Since you're sitting on a Firebolt, I'm going to assume that you know what you're doing. Correct?"  
  
   
  
"Correct," I answered again, and he flew down to the grass at the center and opened the crate that I hadn't noticed before. The Bludgers came out first, then the Snitch. Finally he took out the Quaffle and launched it all the way to the end of the pitch, where it went through the left hoop before the guy he had called Michael caught it. I looked up at the sky. It was getting darker.  
  
   
  
"Score," I heard him say. "Ten points to Gryffindor." He blew a whistle. "Okay... GO!"  
  
   
  
It was a whirl. That isn't the right word at all, but it'll have to do. Admittedly, it wasn't as busy as I was used to, but I hadn't played Quidditch - hadn't been on a broom - in about four or five months. I had to get readjusted to the feeling of sitting on a broom - which was already uncomfortable, without even talking about the fact that I was wearing jeans. Why? Not my best idea.  
  
   
  
Right now, though, my major focus was the Snitch. There was a reason why I liked playing Seeker. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to find the elusive winged ball, of beating the other team's Seeker to it.  
  
   
  
I began slowly circling the pitch, doing my best to ignore everybody else. The problem was that every flash of the sun off a watch, necklace, or ring looked like the Snitch to me. No Bludgers had been sent my way yet (thankfully), but I was on the watch for them too. I didn't think being hit in the the head by a Bludger would-  
  
   
  
There. Right near the ground. The Snitch.  
  
   
  
Nobody talks in complete sentences when chasing the Snitch, okay?  
  
   
  
I pulled into a dive and accelerated as fast as my broom would go, which was a very dangerous speed, come to think of it. At the last second, I looked up, a very good idea.  
  
   
  
I had just enough time to pull my broom to once side and avoid the Bludger that had miraculously appeared out of nowhere. Just thinking about what would've happened to my face if it had hit me - when I was going as fast as I was - made me shudder. I pushed that thought out of my mind and resumed tracking the Snitch, slowing down a little bit to see where it was. Still in the same spot.  
  
   
  
I stretched out over my broom and extended my arm. The Snitch was so close I could feel the vibrations from the wings as they beat the air. A Bludger now would be very unwanted.  
  
   
  
Got it! My fingers closed around the ball and I pulled up from my dive. Just in time too. Since I was so focused on the Snitch, I had failed to notice that I was getting closer to the ground as I dove. By the time I caught the Snitch, I was about two or three feet away from the grass. Half a second more and I would've broken my broom and severely injured myself. Not exactly a good idea.  
  
   
  
I could already see the letter I would've had to write to my parents. " _Hi Dad. I know you just sent me my broom but could you send me another one? Long story. Don't ask. Jacob_." Yeah, no thanks. Oh, wonderful. Now it looks like it's going to rain. I know earlier that I noticed it was getting dark. I thought it was just clouds. Silly me.  
  
   
  
Scratch that. It is actually raining. Not just rain. It's pouring, so hard that I can barely see anything. Somehow I don't think we'll be staying out for much longer. In fact, I can hear Declan shouting, telling to go get changed.  
  
   
  
In the change room, I leaned my sopping wet broom against a wall, pulled out my wand and cast a Hot-Air Charm. Yep. I'm drying my broom off before myself.  
  
   
  
Declan came in and slicked his hair out of his face. "Okay," he said. "That was... short." One or two people laughed. I wasn't one of them. "Even despite the fact that we had about half an hour outside for tryouts, I think I have enough to make cuts."  
  
   
  
I wasn't really worried, for obvious reasons. If you're the only person that shows up for the job, you get it.  
  
   
  
"The team list will be posted on the bulletin board in the common room either tonight or tomorrow morning. For now, go change into dry clothes and do whatever homework you have. Those of you that make it, the first practice will be next week, most likely Wednesday after dinner. Team meeting for the three of you who are new on Monday; you need to get robe sizes and jersey numbers."  
  
   
  
I picked up my now-dry broom and looked around. We looked like twelve large, red pieces of seaweed. I was soaked through, and could feel water dripping off my jeans, which felt like they weighed 45 kilograms. I regretted not bringing a change of clothes down.  
  
   
  
It was a long, squishy walk to the common room. My shoes were soaked as well, and with every step I took I could feel the water in the sole of the shoe. Squish, squish, squish. When I made it back to Gryffindor Tower and gave the password, the Fat Lady made a long series of comments about drying off and using a towel. Oh, and I had Prefect patrols with Lily again tonight. Wonderful. All I wanted to do was sit and do nothing.  
  
   
  
I went up, changed into dry clothes (much better), grabbed my Potions essay that I had barely started (due Monday and I had one sentence) and kicked a first-year out of the comfy chair by the fire.  
  
   
  
Sleep came unexpectedly.


	5. Out With the Old (Lily)

So," Declan said to me at dinner, "I think I have this year's lineup finalized." He sat across from me, a piece of parchment before him, quill in one hand and chicken leg in the other. "You're the only girl on it - well, to be fair, no girls tried out this year, so I couldn't exactly put any more on the team."  
  
He bit off a chunk, swallowed, and stared at the parchment. "For Beater we have Andrew Quintin. From what I saw, he's good. Nearly took the guy who tried out for Seeker's head off."  
  
"Jacob?" I asked.  
  
"Yes, Jacob," Declan answered absentmindedly. "He obviously is going to be the Seeker. I'd have liked to see how he matches up against somebody else, but I guess that will have to wait for the game. Nobody else tried out, which is very surprising."  
  
"Where is everybody going?" I wondered out loud. "Last year we had to schedule three different tryout times in order to fit everybody in."  
  
"I don’t know,” he said, sounding frustrated. He took another bite. “It’s curious. Gobstones certainly isn’t any more popular than it was when my parents went here. Most of the people in Chess Club aren’t interested in Quidditch. Are there any others?”  
  
“Not sure,” I replied. “Who was the other Beater?”  
  
“A guy named Samson Grey. He doesn’t move very fast, but he’s strong. We should compare that in our first practice against Quintin, who’s fast, but lacks a bit in the strength department.” He folded the parchment and grabbed a few chicken wings. “I’m going to go post these, and then finish my Ancient Runes homework.” He rolled his eyes. “Professor Babbling, seriously. Way too much work. Just you wait.”  
  
“See you later,” I said to his back as he walked away.  
  
Now alone, I looked around at the rest of the Great Hall. As usual on Saturday night, there wasn’t a lot of people here. I don’t know where everyone went - we used to be able to be invited into another house’s common room, but not anymore. A few years ago, some party held in the Ravenclaw common room had gone horribly wrong and someone had gotten hurt. I didn’t know exactly what had happened. Albus still wouldn’t tell me.   
  
On the other hand, you would think a group of teenagers would want food at a time when food was being served. Maybe some people were doing what Jacob was doing right now: sleeping. I’d seen him, lying fast asleep in the chair, snoring with his head tilted back and a scroll of parchment in his lap. His snores sounded exactly like that of every male member of my family - loud and annoying. Once, my aunt Hermione had compared the male Potter and Weasley family snores to a chainsaw symphony orchestra. She had then found it necessary to explain what a chainsaw was, as well as a symphony orchestra. (Grandpa Arthur still wants to see one.)  
  
I’d like to think that us girls don’t sound like chainsaws when we sleep. Yeah, sure, I might be prejudiced against boys, but still. The only girl I’d ever heard snore was Sagitta, and that was four years ago, during a sleepover we’d had the summer before second year.  
  
Speaking of Sagitta, there she was, over at the Slytherin table, sitting beside Stoddard Lestrange and Lucius Tremlett, their Seeker. I guess she caught me looking at her, because she whispered something to Stoddard and made her way over to me. She looked nervous, for some reason, and her short blonde hair was messy and stuck-up.  
  
"Uh, Lily," she said, "can we talk?"  
  
Uh-oh. From previous experience, if Sagitta had something to say that wasn't serious, she came right out and said it. Sometimes that got her into trouble ("Professor, you have breadcrumbs in your moustache and your socks don't match." Honestly, I don't know what she was thinking with that one; Professor Frenzen, the Transfiguration professor, is more laid-back than Dad said McGonagall was, but he still didn't appreciate having wardrobe malfunctions pointed out to him in the middle of class) and sometimes people just gave her dirty looks.  
  
“Sure,” I replied nervously. What did she want to talk about? I hope it wasn’t anything really bad.  
  
“Not here,” she added. “Like, outside.”  
  
“Why outside?” It must be really bad news if she doesn’t want to talk about it in the Great Hall. My stomach clenched.  
  
“Just come on,” she said, grabbing my arm and practically dragging me away from my dinner and out into the hall. When we were outside, she looked at me warily.   
  
“Yes?” I asked carefully.   
  
“I have something to tell you.” Why did she sound so nervous? It wasn’t like she was confessing a top-secret murder to me or anything. She took a deep breath and said, “I’m dating Stoddard Lestrange.”      
  
What?  
  
“Stoddard Lestrange? The one who got mad because I beat him in a duel in Defense? Who put a portable swamp in the dungeons? Attacked Jacob Walker and slammed him into a wall? Just an all around asshole?” I didn’t care about the fact that all these sentences were probably grammatically incorrect. What I cared about was the fact that my best friend had decided to date an prick. Also, generally I didn’t like swearing, but I was rather surprised by this decision. Unpleasantly surprised, you might say.  
  
“Yes,” she replied coldly. Why did she sound so mad? “Apparently you haven’t seen the other side of him. The nice, caring side of him.”  
  
“Nice, caring side? Are we talking about the same person here?”  
  
“Yes, we are. Obviously he doesn’t show that side to you. I mean, all he wants is to ace school and turn his family’s name around. He hardly gets to see his father anymore and-”  
  
“For good reason,” I interrupted. “His father was Rabastan Lestrange. He killed people. My dad put him away for good reason.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sagitta replied angrily. “Your dad. That’s why he doesn’t like you. He misses his dad, can’t talk to him at all. Have you ever been to Azkaban? I have, to see my grandfather. It hasn’t changed at all. Sure, there are no Dementors around anymore, but it’s still nasty. Do you know what it’s like to see family there? See people who you idolize, look up to, chained up because they were born on the wrong side?” I don’t think that last one was technically a question, but I listened on, shocked into silence. She continued in the same tone of voice, “I bet your dad taught you Quidditch, showed you swish and flick before you got here, right? His dad can’t do that, can’t even send a letter without having it read and reread by meddling Aurors.”  
  
“Do you think that’s my fault?” I answered sharply. “Rabastan Lestrange committed murder. He killed people, tortured people, and because of that he is locked up in Azkaban. That is not my fault.”  
  
“Maybe it’s not your fault,” she conceded, still talking coldly. “But you carry the same attitude as your dad. You know, child of a Death Eater, must be another awful person, right? Well, I’ll tell you what, Lily. I’m the child of a Death Eater, and I’m certainly not an awful person. In fact, we were fast friends until about five minutes ago!”  
  
“Okay,” I said, “how does that explain what Stoddard’s been doing here at school?” I pointed in the direction of the Great Hall. “In second year he ‘accidentally’ exploded a Mandrake.”  
  
“It was actually an accident,” Sagitta countered. “Even Professor Longbottom said so.”  
  
“Last year he turned a suit of armour into a dancing Santa Claus.”  
  
“It was funny.”  
  
“This year he put a Portable Swamp in the dungeons, threw a hissy fit over losing a practice duel, and magically threw a Prefect against a wall.”  
  
Sagitta began countering my arguments. “The Portable Swamp was in the Slytherin dungeons. It was supposed to be a joke.”  
  
“He was out of bed after hours,” I parried. “Conveniently on the night that I was out patrolling.”  
  
“Yeah,” she said. “With Jacob. This guy who was magically thrown against a wall. Why didn’t he defend himself, huh? Why do you keep returning to this subject? You have a thing for him, don’t you? Come on, Lily,” she pressed, ignoring my attempts to change the subject, “you like him. I can tell. It’s been a month and a half. You can’t get to know someone well enough to date them in that time.”  
  
“Who said anything about dating?” I wondered out loud. “Other than you, who started this argument off by mentioning that you were dating Stoddard Lestrange.”    
  
Sagitta sighed quickly. “Look, Lily,” she said, “I know you don’t like my choice of man. But to be honest, I don’t really care. He’s a really nice guy, once you - and I’m talking to you personally - get over the fact that he used to be a goof and he’s the son of a Death Eater.” She paused, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and continued. “If his mother went through all that Azkaban security to meet with his father in prison, specifically in order to have a child, than I think he deserves a chance, even if you’re not going to give it to him.” She stared at me again, and said, “To be honest, you sound like you’d rather hex him again than give him a chance. I suggest you give him a chance. If you’re not going to, you can just leave me alone for a while.”   
  
“Are you suggesting…” I asked faintly.  
  
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Sagitta looked me directly in the face. Her eyes were cold and hard. “Goodbye, Lily.”  
  
Now, in a teenage romance novel, the kind that Dominique likes to read, the protagonist would come up with a sassy, sarcastic reply and go to her common room, where the smart, funny, and handsome love interest would be waiting. I couldn’t come up with a single thing to tell her, other than a cold muttered “Bye” as I stalked to the staircase to go to the Gryffindor common room.  
  
I couldn’t tell exactly what I was feeling. Numb, mostly. Exhaustion, and anger, too. I was definitely in a bad mood. Poor Jacob was going to have to put up with me for the whole patrol. If I wasn’t so pissed off I would’ve found that funny. Yep, I clearly wasn’t going to be a pleasure to be with tonight.   
  
“Phoenix feather,” I snapped at the Fat Lady.  
  
“My, my, aren’t we a little mad?” she asked, before swinging the portrait hole open. I ignored her and pushed through to the common room, which was deserted save for Jacob, still snoring contentedly in a soft armchair by the fire. Lucky. He didn’t have a best friend who saw fit to run off with a guy who likes to get on your nerves, and then accuse you of being the wrong one. That really stung.   
  
I stomped up to my dormitory - which was empty, thank Merlin - and grabbed the first book in my trunk. It was a cheap book, about a Quidditch player for the Tutshill Tornadoes. The protagonist in the book was probably the silliest Chaser I’ve ever met. He’s written as preferring to go to parties and bars instead of practice, and yet he’s playing professionally. Those two - ignoring practice and appearing professional - are complete opposites, and in this sport opposites don’t attract.   
  
See, when I’m pissed off, I stress read. Yes, yes, I know, it sounds like something Aunt Hermione would do: stick her face in a book at the first available opportunity. But it’s a wonderful resource. You learn valuable things by reading. I remember once in the summer my frustration with my family overcome my desire for food, so I left and went up to my room, where I read a book about Quidditch tactics. Later, when I had calmed down, I went and joined my family in a game of Quidditch, where the stuff I had read in that book helped me score a few goals. We still lost - Dad, who was on the other team, caught the Snitch first - but I learned how to pull those tricks off: by fooling your Keeper uncle with them.   
  
I really didn’t know how I was going to deal with Sagitta. I was still mad at her, and in a bad mood, and I wouldn’t have talked to her even if she had wanted to. She had sounded pretty serious.   
  
Another thing I see a lot in Dominique’s trashy novels is where the main witch ditches all her best friends for this hunky new guy. Stoddard Lestrange wasn’t hunky, and he wasn’t new. The only guy that was new was Jacob, and I wouldn’t ditch my friends for him - as of now, all my remaining friends were on the Quidditch team, like he was. If I even decided to date him; Sagitta’s remark about how she thought I like him had hit home. I kind of did, to be honest, although I think she was right about timing. Jacob hadn’t told me a whole lot about himself; pretty much all I knew about him was what he had volunteered that first night on the carriage before the Welcoming Feast, and stuff I had pieced together. Hunky also wasn’t a word I’d use to describe him. Although considering…  
  
What was I doing? I was not going to fantasize about dating a boy I had known for a month. No. Not happening. I was insistent. I mean, sure, I liked him, as a friend. Okay, maybe a little more than that.


	6. In With the New (Jacob)

I don’t remember falling asleep in front of the fire, but I do remember waking up. Lily was in a particularly bad mood and she shook my shoulder so hard I thought it was going to fall off.  
  
“Jacob. Wake up,” she said. “We have patrol in ten minutes. Up. Now.”   
  
I sat up groggily. “What - what time is it?”  
   
“Ten to eleven. Up.”  
  
“Do I have to?” I grumbled, rubbing a kink in my neck. Sleeping in front of a fire was comfortable; sleeping in a chair with your head tilted back was not.   
  
“Yes, you have to,” she said as I stood up and looked down at her. “I’m sorry,” I asked slowly, “but did I do something? You seem to be in an extremely bad mood right now.”  
  
“You,” she snapped, laying a particularly heavy emphasis on the word you, “didn’t do anything.”  
  
“Then what happened?”   
  
“Nothing.”  
  
“Nothing?” I said, confused. “You’re obviously in a bad mood about something. I don’t know what it is, but you just basically said you don’t want to talk about it. If you want to open up to me, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine too, but don’t take your anger at whoever pissed you off out on me.”   
  
To my surprise, she sighed and said slowly, “We can talk about it while patrolling.” I found it interesting that she didn’t meet my eyes or even look at me while she said this, instead turning away, as if she was embarrassed.   
  
“Okay,” I said. I guess either she was ashamed of herself for taking her out on me - which would explain why she wouldn’t look me in the eyes - or she just needed someone to talk to.  
  
I stretched, grabbed the abandoned parchment that had my still-one-sentence-long Potions essay on it, and brought it into my dormitory, stepping gingerly among the mess left by my dormmates.   
  
You know, I thought sarcastically, it would be a lot easier to find things if you guys put them away where they’re supposed to go. I put the parchment in the top of my trunk, stuck my wand in the pocket of my robes and remembered the first day of classes. In one night these four had managed to turn the nice clean room into a pigsty. It was a fairly stupid reason why they had messed up the room - “Where are my pajamas? I did pack them, right? Let’s empty out my entire trunk only to realize that they were at the bottom! If I had only Summoned them the floor wouldn’t be covered in my junk. Oh well.” - and the reason why they couldn’t clean it up was stupid as well - “I’m too busy avoiding my homework” - so I’d just given up. Thankfully, they were asleep so they didn’t have to bug me about why I kept my area of the room clean. I didn’t particularly like sitting in Monday morning Charms, first period, and hearing “Psst! Jacob! Got any food? I couldn’t find my book this morning” when I knew perfectly well that it had been under the bed beside the socks.  
  
Avoiding the mess of belongings, I turned and left the dormitory, back to the common room. The nice, clean common room.   
  
Lily was waiting at the portrait hole for me, arms crossed over her chest.  
  
“What took you so long?” she asked.   
  
“I had to dance around the mess of crap in the dormitory,” I said. “My dormmates prefer to leave the contents of their trunks on the floor instead of in their trunks.”  
  
“Sounds like Albus,” Lily said. “At least my dormmates put their stuff away. Or rather, I make them put it away."  
  
“You make your dormmates clean up their stuff? Can you come into my room and work your magic?” Oh Merlin, that sounded like a sex invitation. I hope she didn’t interpret it that way.   
  
She laughed. “You know, Jacob, that kind of sounds like a sex invitation.” Damn it.   
  
Embarrassed, I said, “It’s not.” Awkwardly changing the subject, I added, “So what were you so mad about earlier?”  
  
Lily sighed and said, “You’re probably going to think this is silly.”  
  
“Well, I can’t know that if you don’t tell me,” I replied patiently.   
  
“Okay, fine,” she answered. “Sagitta came up to me at dinner tonight and told me bluntly that she was in a relationship with Stoddard Lestrange.”    
  
“Stoddard Lestrange?” I said. “Was he the one who-”  
  
“Put a Portable Swamp in his own dungeon and threw you against a wall, yes,” Lily said, as my stomach rumbled. We went through the portrait hole and she jokingly added, “I guess we’ll be stopping by the kitchen first, right? There is a disadvantage to sleeping through dinner, you know.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” I said wryly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep - it just happened after tryouts.”  
  
“Next time you should wait until after patrol,” she added. “Keeping a regular sleeping schedule helps and you won’t be messed up come Monday morning.”  
  
“Yes, Mom,” I answered sarcastically. “So what did Sagitta say?”  
  
“Other than telling me that she was dating someone who’s done nothing for over four years?”  
  
“Yes.” Had he really done nothing for 4 years? He’d have to have done at least some schoolwork in order to pass exams.  
  
“She said that if I didn’t like her choice of boyfriend then I could leave and walk away from her, from our friendship.”  
  
“And?” I pressed.   
  
She shrugged. “I did. I didn’t know what else to say. Stoddard Lestrange doesn’t like me; I don’t like him. We’ve never gotten along, and we probably never will. I for one am perfectly happy to keep it that way.”    
  
“You would break up a friendship just because you don’t like her choice of date?” I asked.  
  
“Don’t like would an be understatement,” she said. We turned down the stairs to the kitchen. Food…  
  
“You two have been at each other’s throats for that long?” I asked.  
  
“Yes,” she said. “His father is an imprisoned Death Eater, and my dad was the one to catch him. Rabastan Lestrange. So Stoddard blames me for the fact that my dad catches Dark Wizards, as though it’s my fault that his father is a Dark Wizard.” She turned and looked at me. “The first night, on the way here, you said your father was an Auror. Was that maybe why he attacked you?”  
  
I waffled. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because my dad’s been working in Canada for the past 10 years. He only became an Auror right before I was born. He didn’t have anything to do with catching the Death Eaters who were at the Battle of Hogwarts; he was too junior then. Besides,” I continued, “my family isn’t exactly famous here. You won’t usually find mention of a Walker in the Daily Prophet. My mum is the one that caused us to move; she works in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. She was the Magical Ambassador to the Canadian government, so we went to live with her. She got transferred back this summer; that’s why I’m here.”  
  
“So if your mother was the Magical Ambassador isn’t there the possibility of her being posted somewhere else?” Lily asked.  
  
“I don’t think so,” I answered. “She transferred into the Department of Magical Games and Sports as soon as she got back. She thought the Ambassadorship was too much work.”  
  
“Cool,” she said. We were now at the kitchen. “Okay, take what you want. Just don’t stuff your face, please.”  
  
“I do not stuff my face when I eat,” I protested. As we walked into the kitchen I took a plate from a stack by the door and began loading it with food. These chicken legs looked good. I filled my plate and Lily said, “Well, you’re putting enough food on your plate to make me think you’re going to. Besides, you haven’t eaten since brunch this morning.  
  
“Still. I do not stuff my face when I eat,” I told her. She just rolled her eyes and said, “We’ll see.”  
  
We left the kitchen and I started eating the first chicken leg. Eating, not stuffing my face with it, thank you very much.   
  
“So,” Lily continued. “Do you agree with what I said?”  
  
I swallowed quickly. “About what?”  
  
She turned to look at me. “Jacob,” she said. “We were just talking about this.”  
  
“About what?” I repeated.   
  
“About whether or not Sagitta should be dating Stoddard Lestrange or not.”  
  
Oh. That. “Look,” I said slowly, “I don’t know either of them very well. Sagitta’s father is friends with my aunt and I’ve seen her occasionally during the summer when my dad and I have come back here. Stoddard I haven’t met before this year.”  
  
“And?” Lily pressed.   
  
“Honestly, I think that if Sagitta wants to date Stoddard, then that’s her business. From what I’ve seen of him, he doesn’t seem like a very nice guy -”  
  
“He isn’t,” she interjected.  
  
“But if she wants to date someone who seems to be an asshole then that’s her choice. I don’t think it’s fair to try and prevent her from dating someone just because of who they are. And maybe,” I added, “she can get him to change, if he really is as bad as you said he is.”    
  
“I can’t really see that happening,” Lily scoffed. “He’s been a troublemaker since first year.”  
  
“Then maybe dating Sagitta will calm him down,” I suggested. She turned and stared at me as we went up the stairs to the Charms corridor. “No?”  
  
“Sagitta is silly. I can’t see her calming him down. I don’t even know if that relationship will last longer than a week, but I think I’ve staked my position pretty clear with her.” She sighed. “Arguments like this make me realize that I don’t really have a lot of close friends.”  
  
I didn’t really know what to say to that, so I finished the chicken leg I had been trying to eat for a while now, but didn’t want to because I didn’t want Lily to get mad at me for talking with food in my mouth.    
  
“Like, I don’t really talk with my dormmates that much aside from normal girl chit-chat. They’re nice and all, but I just don’t spend a lot of time with them. Other than them, the only other person I regularly spend time with is our Quidditch team and you.”  
  
“I’m on the Quidditch team,” I pointed out.   
  
“You are,” she agreed. “But aside from Prefect patrols and casual talk at meals, we don’t really spend a lot of time with each other.”   
  
I took a deep breath. “We could change that,” I suggested. Yes, I wanted to spend more time with her. I liked her, and besides, it was awkward patrolling with someone you don’t really know.  
  
She smiled. “I would like that a lot.”  
  
We passed the Charms classroom and went by the library. “Okay, there’s nobody here,” I said. “Can we go back to the common room now? I want to finish this plate of food and go to bed.”  
  
“You’re still tired? I would’ve thought the 8 or so hours you got this afternoon would be enough,” Lily teased.  
  
“Apparently not,” I said. We began to walk back to the common room. Eventually, we got there, only to find the Fat Lady gone.   
  
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lily muttered under her breath. “Well, while we’re waiting, you can finish that plate of yours,” she added sunnily, taking a bun from it.  
  
“Hey!” I said. “Go get your own food!”  
    
She looked at me. “Why? The kitchen is far away, and your plate of food is right here.”  
  
“You’d think the Fat Lady would know we’d been out on patrol and would stay in her portrait,” I grumped. “I could be finishing my Potions essay right now.”    
  
“You still haven’t done that?” Lily asked, sounding very surprised. “I did that last night. Hey,” she shrugged, “not being able to sleep sometimes has benefits.”    
  
“I’ve worked on it,” I defended. “I have a sentence.” We both laughed as the Fat Lady came back.  
  
“What are you two doing out of bed?” she asked.    
  
“We’re Prefects, finishing our patrol,” I replied. “What are you doing out of portrait?”    
  
“I was visiting Violet,” she sniffed.    
  
“That’s lovely and all,” Lily interrupted, “but we need to go to bed. Phoenix feather.”    
  
“Fine, fine,” the Fat Lady said, and swung open the portrait hole. As we passed through it I looked at Lily and said, “You want to help me with my Potions essay tomorrow?”   
  
"Sure,” she said. “Although why you only have 1 sentence when it’s due Monday I don’t know. Night.”  
  
“Night,” I said. I put the half-empty plate of food on the table and went up to my own dormitory, wondering who Violet was. Another portrait? I didn’t know, and frankly I was too tired to care.


	7. Awkwardness All Around (Lily)

 like sleep, I really do. I think it’s one of the most amazing things in the world, besides Quidditch and sweets. So when one of my dormmates decided to wake up the entire house at 7 o’clock in the morning with a bunch of screaming and yelling, I wasn’t exactly too pleased.   
   
  
“What in the name of Merlin is going on here?” I snarled, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.  
   
  
“My sister’s boyfriend proposed!” she shrieked, holding up an unrolled piece of parchment.   
   
  
“Gee, that’s nice,” I said, trying my best to not sound sarcastic. “Why couldn’t the letter have shown up at breakfast?”  
   
  
“Come on, Lily, stop being such a spoilsport,” she chided.   
   
  
“Look, Jennifer,” I told her, “I’m happy for your sister and her boyfriend.”  
   
  
“Fiance,” she interrupted.   
   
  
“Whatever. But it’s seven o’clock in the morning; I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night and I’m tired. So could you please take your happiness elsewhere? Thanks.” I pulled my blanket up to my chin and flopped back on my pillow. Back to bed.  
  
*  
  
  
   
  
I guess maybe I shouldn’t wait until I’m completely exhausted to sleep, because I had some weird dreams. I know you’re thinking of normal interesting things in a dream, like people doing things they normally wouldn’t, but I mean weird.   
   
  
Put it this way: it’s not every day you dream about a buttered bun on a broom chasing Jacob around while Sagitta and Stoddard Lestrange kissed in a corner and the Fat Lady sang opera in the background.  
   
  
Yeah. See, I told you it would be weird. There is a downside to having creative family members that like making things up; much as you try to forget those creations, you can’t. Uncle George, I’m looking at you.]  
  
   
  
*  
  
   
  
Eventually I dragged myself out of bed, unwilling as I was, and had lunch (because I slept through breakfast). Then I helped Jacob with his Potions essay. And by help, I mean rebuffing his joking attempts to persuade me to let him copy mine. No sir. Not happening. Do your own work.  
   
  
We were sitting in the library together after he had finished (by himself, I should add), talking about random stuff - my uncle and his joke shop; Jacob’s aunt who had tried to rob Ollivander’s when my dad was in his sixth year - when Jacob asked the question I really didn’t want to hear.   
   
  
“So,” he said casually, “who do you like?”  
   
  
I mentally groaned. Usually it’s only in silly romance novels that your crush asks you who your crush is. Why, Jacob. Why.  
   
  
“Oh, nobody,” I lied. “Why do you ask?”  
   
  
To my surprise, he blushed and looked away. “No reason,” he said.   
   
  
He likes me, I thought, and decided to press him. “If you didn’t have a reason for asking then why would you ask?”  
   
  
He got even more embarrassed and flushed. “Come on, Lily. It was just a question!”  
   
  
If it was just a question then why is his face as red as our house colour?  
   
  
“Sure,” I said. “So why are you blushing?” I like being straightforward, and to those of you thinking “Why is she embarrassing him?”, he started this conversation. If you think this is forceful, you should see my mother sometimes.   
   
  
Jacob sighed. “Lily. Potter. Drop it.”  
   
  
“Okay,” I said. He likes me. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be this embarrassed by my pressing him. To change the subject for him, because I liked him and didn’t want him to feel awkward about this crush that he hopefully had on me, I said, “Don’t forget that you need to talk to Declan tomorrow to get your Quidditch robes.”       
   
  
“I won’t,” he said. The redness on his face was beginning to fade, presumably because we were now talking about something he was more comfortable with. “Where exactly am I supposed to meet with him, though? I can’t see him if I don’t know where I need to go.”  
   
  
Good point. “Down by the change rooms, there’s a large shed, where the school brooms are kept. In there you’ll find him.” I paused. “I don’t think he said what time you should meet him, though, did he?”  
   
  
“No, he didn’t,” Jacob said. “Which isn’t that helpful, to be honest.”  
   
  
“No, it’s not,” I replied. “We can talk to him tonight at dinner. Although,” I added, “I doubt this meeting will be in the morning or at lunch. He isn’t a morning person-”  
   
  
“Are any teenagers morning people?” Jacob interrupted me.  
   
  
“Not any that I know,” I said, and continued what I had been talking about before. “He likes food too much to put a meeting at lunch. It’ll be sometime after classes end, but whether it’s before or after dinner I don’t know.”  
   
  
“That’s helpful,” Jacob said. He glanced at the grandfather clock nestled between two overflowing bookshelves. “I’m going to put this” he waved his completed Potions essay in the air “away and get ready for dinner.” He stood up and I did as well.  
   
  
“I’m coming with you,” I said. “Hey,” I added lightly, “you can show me this disaster of a dorm you share.”     
   
  
“Okay,” he replied.   
   
  
His dorm was even messier than I’d imagined. Four empty trunks sat by their respective beds. Like Jacob had said, their contents were emptied out all over the floor. Textbooks, quills, robes, and inkpots were all jumbled together, some opened, some closed. Some inkpots had been accidentally opened and had leaked everywhere.  
   
  
“How do you ever find anything?” I asked Jacob incredulously. “I thought my brother was the messiest person I’ve ever met… This is impressive.”  
   
  
“This is the work of five other people,” he reminded me, gingerly trying to walk to his bed, which was on the other side of the room, without stepping on anything. It wasn’t working very well.  
   
  
“Here,” I said, extending my hand to him, “I’ll do it.” He paused in the middle of a circle of heavily beaten school textbooks and handed his essay to me.   
   
  
“What, are you used to mess or something?” he asked teasingly.   
   
  
I began picking my way through clothes. Sweat-stained shirt. Ew. “My brother’s worse. I’m not even going to speculate on what the seventh-year Ravenclaw boy’s dorm looks like.”   
   
  
“I can’t possibly imagine how it could be worse than this,” Jacob said, following me. Once when we were over at Dad’s cousin Dudley’s house there was a newsman on on this thing called a television. He started talking about a hurricane that had devastated somewhere, I don’t remember the exact location. There were pictures. Those pictures looked reasonably close to what this room looked like.  
   
  
That may sound harsh, but it’s not, I tell you. Besides -   
   
  
Swoosh. That was all I heard, the sound of fabric sliding across wood. Startled, I turned around to see what had happened, in time to see Jacob come slipping across the small space between us, crash into me, and knock us both over on the bed, him on top. Our faces were about an inch apart. I could see the faintest hint of stubble on his face.  
   
  
“Um,” I said, dropping his essay. At least his bed was made. We lay like that for about five seconds, our hearts pounding, feeling each other’s hearts pounding, and then we heard the sound of footsteps.  
   
  
“Oh hell,” Jacob muttered, pushing himself off of me. Dazed, I sat up as another boy entered the room.  
   
  
“What in Merlin’s name is going on in here?” he asked. “You know, Jacob, if you wanted a little privacy” he raised his eyebrows suggestively, “you could’ve just locked the door.”  
   
  
“David, we weren’t having sex,” Jacob said angrily. “Now get out.”  
   
  
David smirked. “Sure looked like it.”  
   
  
“Now.”  
   
  
He shrugged and called over his shoulder as he left: “I like teasing you. It’s fun.”  
   
  
The silence that he left behind was very, very awkward.   
   
  
“Well,” I said cheerfully, “what now?”  
   
  
“Now,” Jacob said, “there will be lovely rumours going all around Hogwarts saying that we’re in a relationship and that we were having sex.”  
   
  
Well, the first rumour I’d be perfectly fine with, I thought, seeing as how I like him and all. But the second… part of me is looking forward to seeing Albus’ reaction; the other half is coming up with places to tell Jacob to hide so Albus doesn’t find him.  
   
  
“Wonderful,” I said sarcastically, trying to hide my actual feelings, “I love rumours. They’re my favourite.”  
   
  
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, you can stop being sarcastic now,” he said.   
   
  
“Well,” I said lightly, “at least the last sex rumour was false.” I decided not to mention that following that had come a pregnancy rumour, about 20 different ‘who was the father’ rumours, and then an engagement rumour once the supposed father had been found out. Yeah. Go teenagers.   
   
  
“There have been sex rumours before?” Jacob asked, rubbing his face with one hand.  
   
  
“Jacob, if you didn’t know about the tendency of our school to spread rumours, how would you know that rumours are going to be spread?” I asked.  
   
  
He avoided the question. “We should probably get out of here.”  
   
  
Despite the fact that I wanted him to answer my question - did he want those rumours to be spread? - I decided to let it pass. “Good idea,” I responded, feeling unsure. “Your essay’s on the bed.” I turned to leave, heard the sound of his steps behind me, and realized he was following me down the stairs. We got into the common room and walked into a chorus of whoops and shouts.   
   
  
I heard Jacob groan behind me as a sixth year I didn’t recognize said, “How did you even get to the bed? The fifth year boy’s dormitory is notorious for the mess”  
   
  
“They were on the bed,” the boy named David insisted.  
   
  
“We weren’t having sex,” Jacob and I insisted at the same time.   
   
  
Another girl laughed and laughing interjected, “Sure. You’re just covering up for him because you know Albus is going to be a little mad that someone knocked up his little sister.”  
   
  
That was enough. “Shut up, Jennifer,” I said, glaring at the assembled common room. “We were not doing anything we shouldn’t have been doing, and Albus isn’t going to be mad. End of discussion. Go back to work. All of you.”  
   
  
They listened to me, but didn’t sound convinced at all. “Well,” I said to Jacob, “I’m going to get ahead of the game and talk to Albus.”  
   
  
“Okay,” he answered. “I’m going to see if Declan’s down by the Quidditch pitch.”  
   
  
We walked to the portrait hole together, only to have it open just before we got there. Declan himself stepped through.  
   
  
“Why do you two look so guilty?” he demanded. “Why are your faces so red?”  
   
  
“They got caught doing the nasty,” one of the guys called out from the couch by the fire.  
   
  
“We did NOT,” I emphasized. Glaring at Declan as he tried (and failed) to suppress a laugh, I added, “What?”  
   
  
“Just imagine all the relationship related Quidditch jokes I can come up with now,” he chortled, bending over a little and holding a stitch in his side.   
   
  
“Can’t we get a break?” I mumbled under my breath.   
  
  
  
  
Declan finished laughing and said “Nope.”  
   
  
“Wonderful,” Jacob muttered. “Look, can we do tomorrow’s meeting today? The jersey number and size thing?”  
   
  
“Yeah, sure,” Declan said. He turned to me. “Lily, you could get your jersey changed as well.”  
   
  
“Why would I want to do that?”  
   
  
He shrugged. “Change the name on the back from Potter to Walker, maybe.”  
   
  
I shoved him into the wall and left the common room.   
   
  
Eventually, I found Albus sitting in the Transfiguration courtyard. It took me a while, since I didn’t talk to him a lot and had no idea where he liked to be. I had decided that I wasn’t going to try the Ravenclaw common room unless it was a last resort. I had bad memories of the last time I had tried to get in there. (“I’m looking for Albus Potter.” “If it’s information you seek, come and see me. If it’s pairs of letters you need, I have consecutively three. What am I?” “I don’t know. Is Albus Potter in there? He's my brother.” “If it’s-” “Open the door!”) So basically, I wait outside and ask any passing Ravenclaw. Besides, now that we’re not allowed into other house’s common rooms, there’s no point in trying.   
   
  
Albus was sitting on a bench with a group of other seventh-year boys, including Scorpius, talking.   
   
  
“Honestly, though,” he was saying, “I can’t see much harm in-” He looked up and saw me. “Hi, Lily.”  
   
  
“Albus,” I said awkwardly. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”  
   
  
“So much for I like talking to you for reasons other than we’re family and stuck together,” Albus said to himself.   
   
  
“We are not stuck together,” I said, hoping that he’d view at what I had to tell him with humour. The whole thing seemed really silly, to be honest. I mean, what were the odds of someone interrupting us as soon as Jacob had tripped over whatever it was - a shirt, I think - and knocked us over on the bed.   
   
  
I walked with him to the other side of the courtyard. Personally, I was hoping he didn’t know already; it would be easier to tell him the story was a lie if he hadn’t heard it before.  
  
   
  
“So,” Albus asked, “is this about this boy that you were supposedly doing the nasty with in the boy’s dormitory?”  
   
  
Well shit.   
   
  
“First of all,” I said, “how did you even find out about that?”  
   
  
“A kid came up to me about ten minutes ago and announced it,” my brother said wryly. “You should have heard Scorpius. He said ‘Thank Merlin Rose and I won’t be the only teenage couple at family events’. So who is this guy, anyways? He is a decent guy, right? You need to find someone nice to do the nasty with.”  
   
  
“Second of all,” I said, ignoring his question, “we were not doing anything we shouldn’t having been doing.”  
   
  
“You were in the boy’s dormitory,” Albus reminded me, crossing his arms over his chest.   
   
  
“Yes, and?”   
   
  
“As far as I am aware, if you want to talk to somebody and you don’t need privacy, you meet in the common room - not the dorm.”  
   
  
“I was helping him put his essay away,” I protested. “Albus, we still had all our clothes on! This whole thing has been blown way out of proportion. Nothing happened!”  
   
  
“Okay,” Albus said, raising his hands. Then he looked at me. “Do you like this guy?”  
   
  
“Do I… That’s none of your business!” I said sharply. “Stop laughing!”  
   
  
“Can I take that as a yes?”  
   
  
“No.” Yes. I’m a private person. I don’t appreciate people going around saying stuff about me, especially if it’s personal, for example, that I liked Jacob, or wrong (the rumour now apparently going around).   
   
  
“Sure,” he said, sounding unconvinced. “At the very least, tell me his name.”  
   
  
“Jacob,” I said. What harm could a first name possibly do?  
   
  
“So I see you’re on first name terms with him,”Albus stated. Of course I would be on first name terms with a boy if I was going to do things with him. What a stupid thing to say.  
   
  
“Albus, it’s been a month since school started.”  
   
  
“A month isn’t a lot of time to get to know someone,” he said, sounding a lot like Sagitta had when we had quarrelled. We’re still not talking to each other, by the way.     
   
  
“He’s a prefect,” I said, “you get to know people more when you have to walk around with them three times a week. And how do you know that this is a new person we’re talking about?”  
   
  
“Ooh, another prefect.” Albus smiled. “I know exactly who you’re talking about now. I think I’ll go have a little chat with him at dinner. You know, man to man. Oh, and you never showed any real interest in boys up until now.” That’s a lie. I had a boyfriend last year, only for about two month, but still.   
   
  
“Albus, you’re seventeen,” I told him.   
   
  
“I know that!”  
   
  
“I thought you had to be, you know, an adult to have a man to man talk.”  
   
  
“Nope,” he shook his head and turned to walk back to his friends, “you just have to be male!”  
   
  
My brother, I swear. You’d think we were related or something.  
   
  
When I returned to the Gryffindor common room, it was thankfully almost deserted; the sole occupants were Jacob and a few first-years sitting by the fire. Jacob looked up at me as I approached.  
   
  
“So,” he asked, “how did your talk with your brother go?”  
   
  
“Somehow he already knows,” I replied. It felt awkward being around him now, since apparently the whole school knew about our supposed.... yeah. I could easily remember the feeling of him against me, weird enough as it was, especially since I didn’t think it was something I wanted to remember. Nope. I may like him, but nope. Nope nope. nope.   
   
  
“How does he already know?” Jacob asked, sounding exhausted.   
   
  
“Well, someone told him.”  
   
  
“Obviously,” he said, now sounding annoyed. “What did he say?”  
   
  
“He said he was going to talk to you at dinner, which is in,” I turned and looked at the grandfather clock by the staircase leading to the dormitories, “half an hour.”  
   
  
“This isn’t like a trial or anything, is it?”  
   
  
“I don’t think so,” I said. “It’s just my brother.” Could be worse. Could be my dad. Of course, if my dad found out, then it would be worse, considering he (rightly) thinks that 15 is too young to be doing anything, and, you know, overprotective father and all.  
  
  
Yeah. Albus better not write home saying “Mum! Guess what!” I would not be too pleased with him if that happened.


	8. A Man To Man Talk, Times Two (Jacob)

Lily’s older brother was a prefect as well; a Ravenclaw boy who was just a little bit shorter than I was. When I sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table he came over and plopped down opposite me as I buttered my corn.   
  
“Can I help you?” I asked him.    
  
“Yes,” he said. “You and my sister, huh?”    
  
“Um.. no,” I corrected him. “Who are you, by the way?”    
  
“Albus Potter.” He extended a hand, and I shook it. “So you’re Jacob.”    
  
“Yes,” I said warily. “Why?”    
  
“I heard about what happened in the dormitory earlier today,” he mentioned casually, and despite my efforts to the contrary I flushed. He started chuckling.    
  
“Nothing happened!” I protested. “Why are you laughing?”    
  
Potter took a roll from a basket, cut it open, and put butter on it. “Lily told me the same thing you just did - and I believe her. But the fact that you just turned as red as your tie suggests something else on your part. Feelings, maybe?”    
  
Sometimes I really hate blunt people.  
    
“So what if I do?” I asked slowly.   
    
“Just saying that this is my little sister you’re crushing on there,” Potter said. “Don’t hurt her or cause her to get upset, if you know what’s good for you. I know, I know,” he raised his hands, still holding the roll, “that sounds like I’m threatening you. I’m not. You’ve never been on the receiving end of one of her hexes, have you?”    
  
“No,” I said, “but I’ve seen people who have. Not something I’d like to risk.”    
  
Potter laughed, ripped the bun in half, and held one part in each hand. “I hope you treat her well because you respect her and not because you don’t want to have bats flying out of your nose,” he said.    
  
“Oh, don’t worry,” I replied as he stood up and passed behind me, clapping me on the back. What was that for? Was that some kind of reassuring ‘I hope I wasn’t too harsh on you’ sign? I was pretty sure getting up and chasing after him asking that question wouldn’t make me look too good in his eyes, though, so I stayed seated, finally beginning the corn I had buttered a while ago.    
  
Lily walked in the Great Hall, and my eyes immediately flicked to her. Not acknowledging me, she walked towards the Ravenclaw table, to where her brother was sitting, eating the roll he had taken from he was over here. They started talking. She nodded occasionally, and once her eyes jerked over to me before focusing back on Albus. I wondered what they were talking about, specifically. Me, no doubt. What exactly about me they were discussing is what I wanted to know.    
  
Eventually they stopped talking, and Lily got up and came over to me. She ignored the corn and started buttering a roll, the same as her brother had done.    
  
“So,” I prompted her, “what did you two talk about?”    
  
“Stuff,” she said, avoiding my question.    
  
“Well that’s descriptive.” Definitely talking about me. Still, I wanted to know what they had talked about. “What kind of stuff?” When she hesitated I added, “I’ll just keep bugging you until you tell me.”    
  
Lily sighed. “You,” she admitted finally, avoiding my gaze.    
  
“What about me?” I asked, trying unsuccessfully to raise one eyebrow and instead making what was probably a stupid face.    
  
“Nothing,” she said. She tore the now-buttered roll in half and ripped off a piece with her teeth. “Just give it up, Jacob,” she added in a pleading tone. “I’m not telling you.”    
  
“Like I said before, I can keep pestering you until you tell me.” I smiled and added, “even though it’s not really any of my business.”    
  
She smiled back at me. Such a pretty smile… It lit up her whole face like a stray beam of sun lights up a dark forest floor. Yeah, poetic. Lily should smile more often.  
  
  *  
  
“Jacob.”    
  
“What?”  
  
“You’ve been staring unfocused at me for the last five minutes. It’s kind of creeping me out.”  
    
“Oh.” Well, that’s embarrassing. “Sorry.”  
  
 *  
  
I genuinely wish Hogwarts served breakfast in bed. I hate getting up, and Mondays are no exception. On second thought, either breakfast in bed or a free first period would be nice.   
   
But hey, the coffee’s pretty good. And some people didn’t need it as much as me; for example, our Quidditch captain, who apparently got plenty of sleep last night, for someone who wasn’t a morning person, as Lily had said.   
  
Declan sat on a diagonal from me, holding a copy of the Daily Prophet up just above his plate of toast. He looked thoroughly engrossed, and I hated to disturb him, but the headline was something I wanted to read.   
  
“Hey, Declan,” I called softly. “Can I read that when you’re done?"   
  
He pulled the paper down and looked at me.   
   
“Sure,” he said, and winked. “Anything for Lily’s boyfriend.”    
  
“I am not-” I began to protest, then stopped. This process of denying constantly was getting Lily and I nowhere, and besides, I hadn’t heard her deny anything other than the supposed cause of the rumour. Then again, I hadn’t heard anyone call her my girlfriend yet, so that was good, I suppose. Sighing, I extended my hand and said, “Just give me the paper.”    
  
Grinning, Declan gave it to me. “I get to bug you two for an entire year,” he said. “This is going to be awesome!”  
  
I suppressed a groan, stared at the front headline of the paper, and suppressed another one.  
    
Ollivanders Wand Stealer Released From Azkaban Today  
  
The article read:  
  
Alexandra Walker, who tried to shoplift wands from Ollivander’s Wand Shop in early July 1996, has been released from Azkaban prison today.   
  
While not serving time in Azkaban for this wand-stealing attempt, it is her most famous crime to date. Ms. Walker had been serving time for attempted murder.  
  
Unfortunately, this woman is related to me. Technically, she’s my aunt, but nobody in my family considers her family. She’s the one we don’t talk about, and on the rare occasion where she gets mentioned, she’s known as “her”. I’m just going to hope that every family is like that and has one rotten apple. It would make me feel less angry at the fact that my aunt can’t figure a productive way to spend her life.   
  
I noticed Declan staring at me. “That woman,” he said, pointing at Alexandra, “relative of yours?”    
  
“Much as I’d like to say no,” I admitted reluctantly, “unfortunately, she is.”    
  
Declan inhaled sharply and shook his head. “Jacob, Jacob,” he said teasingly, “are you sure you want to date the daughter of the Head Auror if you have a criminal relative? Are you sure I want you to date my friend?”    
  
“We’re not dating,” I said. Merlin knows how many times I’ll be having this argument over the course of the next few weeks. Might as well learn the lines by heart now.    
  
“That’s what Lily said too,” Declan answered, “but to be honest, I think you guys could and should date. You know what I’m saying?”    
  
“Are you trying to play matchmaker?” I accused.    
  
“No,” Declan said innocently, his tone giving his words away for the lie they were. “Why would I play matchmaker?”    
  
“Because you want an in-Quidditch-team relationship?” I guessed. What a horrible way to phrase that.    
  
Declan shook his head. “No,” he said. “I wouldn’t describe it as that, mostly because it doesn’t help us if you two are staring at each other all game instead of playing. We can't have distracted players if we're going to win the Cup this year. Just take her to Hogsmeade and stare at her then," he suggested.    
  
"So if you're not playing matchmaker what are you doing?" I asked him.    
  
"Being a good friend," he suggested. "She likes you, I can tell. You know yesterday in the common room? If she didn't like you, she would've given me a dirty look and told me I was wrong. Instead she bodychecked me into the wall."    
  
"Come on, Jacob," he continued pressing me, "ask her to go with you on the Hogsmeade trip Saturday. Do it."    
  
"Declan," I groaned. "Stop. Please."    
  
He laughed. "Fine. Oh look, there she is now." He jerked his head over to the Ravenclaw table, where Lily stood talking with her brother. As I watched her, I realized that I did in fact want to take her to Hogsmeade on the weekend. It didn’t have anything to do with Declan hounding me over and over. I didn’t know how he knew that I liked her; maybe it was just a lucky guess on his part.    
  
“Oh, and by the way, Jacob,” Declan’s voice cut into my thoughts, “there’s a practice tonight at 7. You could ask her then.”    
  
“Who said anything about asking her?” I asked, trying to feign ignorance of my own desire.    
  
“I did. Ask her tonight, or tomorrow when you have patrol. But you should.” He got up as the bell rang. “Trust me, once you work up the courage to ask her the first time, the next times are a lot easier. Then you’re in a committed relationship.” I followed him out of the Great Hall, thinking. Sure, it might be easier the second time, according to Declan - who didn’t look like he’d ever dated a girl - but I still had to ask her first, something that I wasn’t really looking forward to, to be honest.    
  
I think it was stupidity on my part, wanting to take a girl to Hogsmeade without asking her first. It didn’t look like Lily was going to be asking me anytime soon, so I had to take the plunge.    
  
*  
    
I didn’t see how it was possible to ask her in any of our classes, even if I had been able to convince myself right after deciding to do it in the first place. We sat on the opposite side of the room in Charms, we were still doing Professor Blenkinsop’s dueling tournament in Defense (I got knocked out, by the way. The Slytherin Seeker is really good.), and Potions was, well Potions. I spent Arithmancy trying to stay awake and make it to lunch without falling asleep.    
  
I suppose I could have asked her after Quidditch practice, but everyone was in the change room together and I didn’t want to ask her then. Call it what you want, I don’t think it’s cowardice, although that’s a pretty strong way to put it. In my opinion, it was more the fact that I didn’t want everyone to know right then and there. Yes, they’d know after we went, but that stupid rumour that had surfaced yesterday was still going around. I know, I know, stupid rationalization, but I was trying to put off actually asking her.    
  
Finally, Tuesday night as we were patrolling, I asked her. The whole walk before I worked up the courage was awkward, at least on my end, my responses to her questions short stilted as I mentally chanted Do it Do it Do it Do it you wimp.  
    
“So,” I said somewhat clumsily, “are you going to Hogsmeade on Saturday?” Please say yes. This would be awkward if you said no.    
  
“I was thinking about it,” Lily answered calmly. “I’m not really sure who I would go with, though.” _Right into my next question, thank you very much_.  
  
“Would - would you like to go with me?” I asked her, mentally crossing my fingers. _Please don't say no. That would be even more awkward._  
  
Thankfully, she didn’t make me wait that long on a response. It still felt like a long time to me, though, standing there watching her.    
  
She smiled up at me, a big wide smile that made me feel very happy. If she was turning me down, she wouldn’t smile. “Jacob, I would love to,” she told me, sounding just as happy as I felt. Was it possible..?  
  
It certainly looked like it could be possible, considering she sounded very happy right now. But whether or not it was possible for her to like me romantically was not what I wanted to know. It was whether or not she did.  


	9. Contents of a Letter (Lily)

“I bet you 10 galleons that this Jacob guy won’t work up the courage to ask you to Hogsmeade next weekend,” Albus had told me at dinner Sunday night. I had shaken his hand somewhat reluctantly and said, “Okay.”  
  
Now I owed him 10 galleons and I was quite happy to be 10 galleons poorer, to be honest. When he had asked me, Jacob had been staring at me like I was about to bite his head off. I’m not sure why. The whole conversation with him I had been trying to get him to ask me, standing there mentally thinking Ask Ask Ask. Then he had, and I guess my happiness, relief, whatever you want to call it, had shone through.  
  
Now we were walking down the hall in silence, each of us wrapped in our own thoughts when Jacob, sounding very tentative, broke the silence.  
  
“So,” he said, “where do you want to meet?”    
  
I shrugged. “In the common room, I guess.” I sounded a lot calmer than I felt, to be honest.   
  
We rounded a corner and there on the wall in front of us was a huge sign.   
  
“Jacob, do it. Don’t be a wimp. Declan,” I read questioningly.  
  
“For Merlin’s sakes, Declan,” I heard Jacob mutter under his breath. “Really?” He stared at me, unimpressed, as I burst out laughing. “What?” he demanded.  
  
“Nothing,” I said, wiping water from my eyes with one hand and waving at him with the other. “I just find that” I pointed at the sign, “really funny.”  
  
Jacob rolled his eyes, pulled out his wand and Vanished about a third of the sign.  
  
“It won’t go any more,” he said, frustrated.   
  
“Oh well,” I answered. “Just leave it. How many Jacobs are there here?”  
  
“Not a lot!” he exclaimed loudly, turning and looking down at me. “Besides, the ‘Declan’ part kind of narrows the already narrow list down a bit. That’s coming down.”  
  
“Whatever,” I said, watching as he Vanished it, all of the remaining sign disappearing this time. “You going to get mad at Declan for that?”  
  
“Probably,” Jacob answered. Then he glanced at me, looking somewhat nervous. “So, uh, where are we meeting?”  
  
“Saturday?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Probably just in the common room. Then we can walk down to the carriages,” I said. We’re just going as friends, I added to myself. I don’t know him well enough for anything else.   
  
*  
  
The rest of the week seemed to crawl by, just like that. I guess when you have something to look forward to that something takes forever to arrive. We had another Quidditch practice Thursday night; Jacob got mad at Declan then. It was rather entertaining to see them bickering like 5-year-olds in front of the entire team, who thought they were nuts.  
  
Overall, the whole week was relatively light. For once, the teachers held off on homework slightly - no major essays assigned or anything like that. Maybe they were easing us into the first Hogsmeade visit of the year and they would dump huge assignments on us later. I didn’t know.  
  
Then Friday morning happened. Well, to be honest, Friday didn’t happen; a letter arrived for Jacob that single-handedly appeared to ruin his day. Later, when I got him to show me the letter, it didn’t exactly boost my mood either.  
  
*  
  
We were sitting down at breakfast, opposite each other. He was good-naturedly exchanging ribbings with Declan while I read the second book in a series about an Auror while grumbling at them every five minutes or so to keep it down. Dad had gotten them for me for Christmas, saying that one of his coworkers was reading them and he thought they were entertaining, while unrealistic.  
  
Declan had left and the main character was just about to meet the bad guy for the first time when the mail arrived. I caught the Daily Prophet that was for me and set it down, unopened, by my plate of toast. A brown owl came, perched on Jacob’s empty goblet, knocking it over, and offered its leg. Jacob took the very long roll of parchment, righted his goblet and filled it with pumpkin juice. He took a sip and began to read; I returned to my novel.   
  
The bad guy was just telling the Auror about his complete and in-depth plans - how unrealistic, Dad was right - when I heard a sound that resembled someone coughing and choking at the same time. Looking up, startled, I saw Jacob hastily swallow his pumpkin juice and stare angrily at the parchment. Ignoring me, he took a deep breath, shook his head, and left. I quickly finished the chapter - I only had a page or two left, anyways - tucked the book into one of my robe pockets, and followed him.  
  
He moved quickly and I had to rush to keep up with him. I was moving so fast I was almost running and he was still moving as fast, if not faster, than I was.   
  
I followed him to the common room, where I saw him rush up the stairs to his dormitory. I hesitated, remembering what had happened the last time I had gone in there - even though it was an accident and not at all what people thought it was - and then shook myself and followed him up.   
  
He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, elbows on his knees as he stared at the piece of parchment. From here I could see both that his jaw was clenched and that he was taking deep breaths.    
  
“Hey,” I said softly, sliding a pair of pants out of my way as I walked over to him. This room hadn’t got any cleaner. “You okay?”  
  
He didn’t reply; only closed his eyes, took another deep breath, and extended the parchment out to me.  
  
I took it, wondering what could possibly upset him enough to cause him to leave breakfast all in a rush like he had.  
  
Then I looked down and saw why.  
  
Jacob, I read, do you remember Alexandra? If you don’t, and I sincerely hope that you don’t, she is your adopted aunt. When your grandparents married Grandpa already had an adopted daughter: her. He picked her up off the street, for reasons that he still won’t go into. She’s about 10 years older than your father, and in the summer of 1996 she attempted to rob Ollivander’s Wand Shop. Don’t ask me what she was thinking.  
  
“This woman is your aunt?” I asked disbelievingly.  
  
“Keep going.” He sounded so despondent it saddened me.  
  
Put into Azkaban for this, she later escaped during the mass Death Eater breakout that occurred later that year, and ignored all family attempts to rein her in and provide a more… stable environment for her. I’m not saying she’s crazy; far from that. She just met a few people in Azkaban that she should have stayed well away from.  
  
In the year that Voldemort was in charge of the Ministry of Magic, she thrived as a Snatcher, catching fugitives from Voldemort’s twisted blood purity laws. Of course, after Voldemort’s death she was a fugitive again. Instead of trying to fix her life she fought the Aurors that came to arrest her, killing three. Harry Potter finally took her down-  
  
“Your dad,” Jacob said dully.   
  
“My dad,” I repeated, and continued. Harry Potter finally took her down, but not before she threatened to kill him and all his family once she was let out of Azkaban. Naturally, at the trial, our family distanced ourselves as far away from her as possible. Indeed, your father would have been one of the ones capturing her had he not been off duty at the time.  
  
“She threatened my dad?”  
  
“And, by extension, you,” he replied. I felt a jolt run through as I realized exactly what he was talking about. This woman wanted to go after Dad, Mum, Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron, James, Albus - who wanted to be an Auror like Dad once he graduated - and everyone else in our family. Surely Dad (and, by extension, Uncle Ron) knew about this.   
  
“Keep going.” Jacob instructed.  
  
Unfortunately, this was forgotten, and she was released from Azkaban last month. The Daily Prophet said that she was in on a charge of attempted murder, which was their version of her threat to hunt down Harry Potter and his family. However, she also severely mistrusted us, since we refused to support her at her trial. In addition to swearing vengeance against Harry Potter, she has also done the same to us. Why? I don’t know. What I do know is that your enraged, violently dangerous aunt maybe potentially be coming after us. Be warned. Mum.  
  
“So this aunt of yours,” I began, but Jacob interrupted me.   
  
“She’s not my aunt,” he said coldly. “Not to me, anyways. If you look at it, we’re not even related by blood. My whole family is ashamed of her.”  
  
I didn’t know what to reply to that. I thought of saying something like “My whole family is ashamed of Uncle Percy”, but it was clearly the wrong time for something lighthearted like a joke. Besides, the whole family isn’t ashamed of Uncle Percy, just us kids. Instead, I just nodded in what I hoped was a comforting manner.   
  
“Jacob, I think the Aurors are going to hunt her down sooner or later,” I told him quietly.  
  
“My dad’s an Auror,” he said, sounding worried. “If she finds him..”  
  
“If he’s an Auror he’ll know how to defend himself,” I reassured him. “He’ll also have a partner with him most of the time. My dad’s an Auror as well.” I pulled out a pocketwatch. “Come on, let’s go finish breakfast. You need nourishment for double Defense.”  
  
“I got knocked out,” he pointed out as he stood up, shoving aside the drapes. “I’m not going to let her ruin my day… either today or tomorrow.”  
  
After I stopped in my dormitory and dropped off my book, we headed down to the common room, which thankfully was deserted. I don’t think either of us were in the mood for another round of “did you two have sex?”   
  
Another letter was waiting for me at our table: my dad giving me a brief and less detailed version of what Jacob had shown me. And by brief and less detailed I mean the letter said, quote: “Lily, a witch just got out of Azkaban and is making threatening movements towards us. We’ll catch her quickly, nothing to worry about. Dad.” Yeah. And he according to Mum and Aunt Hermione, he complained bitterly when someone left him out of the loop. I grunted in disgust and Jacob looked over at me.  
  
“What?” he asked.   
  
“My dad’s letter is the exact opposite of the one you got,” I told him. He sounded a lot happier, and I couldn’t tell if he had genuinely moved on from his aunt or if he was just faking and holding it in. I hoped it was the first one.   
  
Just then a Hufflepuff prefect came up to us and said, “I have a message from Professor McGonagall. She wants to see you after classes today, and she says to bring something tartan.”  
  
“Okay,” I said, and watched as he walked away. Jacob looked completely baffled.  
  
“Bring something tartan?” he said, one eyebrow raised right into his hairline. It looked so silly I had to suppress a laugh.  
  
“We don’t actually have to do that,” I answered while mentally chanting don’t giggle. “It’s the password.”  
  
“Oh. That makes sense,” he returned, and I lost the battle.  
  
“Why are you laughing?” he asked wearily.   
  
“No reason.” I evaded the question as the bell rang to signal the end of breakfast.   
  
*  
  
I guess Professor Hurst didn’t get the memo about the fact that tomorrow is a Hogsmeade weekend and none of the teachers were supposed to assign homework.   
  
Okay, I’ll admit that that wasn’t actually a rule. But it’s nice, and none of our others teachers assigned us anything; Professor Hurst basically said, “Here’s two essay assignments! They both need to be a foot long and they’re both due next Wednesday!”  
  
Sometimes I hate teachers.  
  
*  
  
“Tartan,” I said, and the gargoyle swung aside and allowed us to pass onto the rising staircase. Jacob and I stood in silence until we got to the top.  
  
“Do we just walk in?” he wondered.  
  
“I don’t know; I’ve never been here,” I said.   
  
“If you’ve never been here then how did you know the password?”  
  
“It was pretty obvious,” I told him as the staircase shuddered to a halt. Oh, well. I walked off and strolled directly into Professor McGonagall’s office.   
  
It looked exactly the way it was described in Hogwarts, A History. That’s all I’m saying, because Professor McGonagall motioned us to two chairs waiting in front of her desk. Albus was already sitting in a third, his legs stretched out casually.  
  
“I believe all three of you know why you’re here,” McGonagall began. Albus shook his head.  
  
“I believe not,” he said. “Why are we here?”  
  
“First of all,” she answered, avoiding his question for the moment, “I believe you all got letters from your parents?”  
  
“Yes,” Jacob answered from where he sat beside me.   
  
“Some were more detailed than others,” I grumbled. Albus looked over at me.  
  
“Why, what did you letter say?” he asked.  
  
“Almost nothing,” I replied. “All the information I know I got from his letter.” I jerked my head at Jacob.  
  
Albus frowned. “That’s funny - Dad told me everything.”  
  
“Maybe because you’re the youngest," Albus suggested. "My letter was filled with information."  
  
I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not a little kid anymore."  
  
"Okay, that's enough," McGonagall said primly. "As I'm sure you know, a witch by the name of Alexandra Walker-”  
  
“My aunt,” Jacob said wearily.  
  
“Yes. Don’t interrupt, Mr. Walker. Anyways, a witch by the name of Alexandra Walker has been released from Azkaban prison. She was serving for a charge of attempted murder. She was a Snatcher during Voldemort’s government and after the war she resisted arrest and killed three Aurors before being captured. When she was captured, she threatened to kill your father and his entire family. Now,” she looked up from the piece of parchment she was reading from and stared at Albus and I, “your father is no stranger to death threats, as you no doubt know. However, his family has never been threatened before, so he is taking this very seriously.”  
  
She turned to Jacob. “Your father works with Harry Potter, I believe?”   
  
“Yes,” Jacob answered. “He worked in Canada for the last six or seven years, though, when my mother was the Magical Ambassador there.”  
  
“Ms. Walker has also threatened your family,” McGonagall said, still talking to Jacob, who remained silent. “Now, given that she killed three Aurors back in 1999, which is when she was captured, the Auror Office is devoting a lot of resources to finding her, especially since it was their own who were killed. She is a skilled witch, though, and we can’t dismiss the possibility that she may elude their search and come here.”  
  
After us, I thought, and spoke up. “Professor,” I asked, “isn’t Hogwarts safe?”  
  
McGonagall sighed. “It is,” she answered. “Ms. Potter, you can rest assured that if Alexandra Walker comes here the Auror Office will have a team here extremely quickly.” I nodded, not quite convinced by what she had said.   
  
“Professor,” Albus broke in, “we already know this. With all due respect, why would you call us here if you were only going to tell us what we already know?”  
  
“Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said with a tone of false severity, “do you always have to be as blunt as your father?” She paused for a moment and then added, “To answer your question, it’s because I needed to tell you that the three of you - as well as Mr. and Ms. Weasley” meaning Rose and Hugo, “will be receiving additional Defense lessons from Professor Blenkinsop.”  
  
“In addition to Prefect duties?” Jacob asked.  
  
“Yes, Mr. Walker,” McGonagall said. “Although I do believe you can handle it?”  
  
We all nodded and McGonagall leaned back in her chair. “Excellent,” she said. “I will talk to Professor Blenkinsop and let you know when the extra lessons will be.”  
  
“Professor, we all patrol at different times,” Albus announced.  
  
“Mr. Potter, I put together the patrol schedule. I believe I am aware of that,” McGonagall answered wryly. “You patrol Thursday and Sunday at lunch, and Monday night, am I correct?”  
  
“Yes,” Albus said.   
  
“Okay,” McGonagall finished. “Go enjoy the rest of your Friday night, and I’ll have a practice schedule for you in your Monday morning owl post.” I took that as a dismissal, and stood up.   
  
We said goodbye to Albus at the Grand Staircase, and Jacob and I walked back to the common room in awkward silence. I wanted to say something, but couldn’t think of anything to say. When we got into the common room, we found Declan sitting at a table. As we approached, I could see that it was something Quidditch-related.  
  
“So,” Jacob said, “when’s the first game?”  
  
Declan looked up, evidently startled. “Where did you two come from?” he asked.   
  
“We just got here,” I answered. “Declan, when is the first game. It would kind of be nice to know.”  
  
He pulled out a piece of paper from his book bag. “Well, there’s a Ravenclaw-Slytherin game next Saturday,” he said slowly, “and then we play Hufflepuff a month after that. So, a month next weekend. We have plenty of time to practice before then.”  
  
“Okay,” I continued, “when’s our next practice?”  
  
“Next Wednesday after dinner,” he said. “Your patrol doesn’t start until, what? 8?”  
  
“10,” Jacob said. He yawned and looked at the clock. “Speaking of time, it is 10. I’m going to bed.” He headed for the staircase. Declan watched him disappear, and then stared at me.   
  
“There’s a Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, isn’t there?” he asked.   
  
“Aren’t you going?” I ignored his question.  
  
“No. So, who are you going with?”   
  
“Declan, we saw your sign last night.” I ignored his question again. “I am going with him-”  
  
“Good-”  
  
“But just as friends. Nothing serious is going on between us,” I said firmly. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to follow Jacob’s lead and go to bed as well.” I walked to the stairs, thinking hard. I kept vehemently denying to myself that I had any feelings for him. I was lying to myself, I knew that. I just didn’t want to admit that I was lying to myself. Why? Was it because I didn’t know Jacob that well? That excuse was gradually becoming more useless as time went on - when you have to patrol empty corridors, the only thing that staves off boredom is talking. I had feelings for him, I knew that. So why couldn’t I say it out loud? Even to myself? 


	10. Hogsmeade (Jacob)

When I woke up this morning, I had a minute or so of nice, happy thoughts. There was a Quidditch game in a week (admittedly one that I wasn’t playing in, but it was still Quidditch), and Lily had agreed to go to Hogsmeade with me.   
  
That’s when my good mood ended. Last night, after telling Lily and Declan I was going to bed, I hadn't immediately done so. Instead, I had sat outside our dormitory, listening to the two of them talk. Much as I hated to admit it, I was kind of jealous of Declan. He bantered so easily with Lily, and it was obvious they trusted each other, much more than she trusted me. Whereas Lily and I… we were just… awkward with each other. I didn’t know how else to describe it. I knew what I felt, that slight rush when talking to them, of having to force your tongue to cooperate. I didn’t know about her, but she seemed a lot more comfortable with Declan than she did with me.  
  
So Lily had told Declan that she was just going with me as a friend. I don’t know why, but listening to her casually say that I was just a friend to her hurt.    
  
Sighing quietly, I rolled out of bed; the rest of my dormmates were still asleep and I didn’t particularly want to wake them up. I didn’t know what to wear - how do you dress when going somewhere with someone you like who doesn’t like you back? - so I just pulled on a pair of jeans and a thick blue sweater, stuck my wand in my pocket, and crept quietly down to the common room.   
  
The grandfather clock in the corner read 7:15, and chimed softly to mark the quarter-hour in the near-deserted room. Other than myself, Lily was the only person awake at this hour. She sat in an armchair by the fireplace that was currently empty, humming to herself as she wrote something down on a piece of parchment. As I saw her, I wanted to be angry, pissed off, sad even, at what she had said to Declan last night, but I found that I couldn’t, not when she was right there. And, for all I knew, she had lied through her teeth to Declan. I suppose I would just have to wait and see.  
  
Lily got up from her chair, sighing quietly. I couldn’t tell if her sigh was because she had to get out of that chair - she had looked rather comfortable, after all - or if there was some other reason. As she turned around to head over to where I was, presumably to head up to her dormitory, she saw me and gave a start.  
  
“How long have you been down here?” she asked, one hand against her chest, clearly surprised.    
  
I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the flush that I could feel creeping to my cheeks. Merlin, she looked good, even though she might be unaware of it. “Just got down here now,” I said, trying to be casual. “How long have you been down here?” I repeated her question back at her.  
  
She shrugged, the same as I had. We seemed to be copying each other today. “An hour, more or less.”  
  
Why? “Lily,” I said slowly, trying to keep the desire to lecture her about sleep and weekend and do it while you can out of my voice, “it’s the weekend. Why on earth would you get up at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday?” Just like I mentioned earlier, I felt awkward. I don’t know about her, but I had to force my tongue to move the way I wanted it to.  
  
“I wanted to get the Ancient Runes essays out of the way,” she said, holding up the roll of parchment in a hand that also contained a quill and a near-empty bottle of ink.   
  
What Ancient Runes ess- Oh. Right. Those Ancient Runes essays. The ones that Professor Hurst had assigned at the end of the day yesterday, saying “I know it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, but in the real world, your employer won’t care about any trips you go on unless they’re for your job. Therefore, I don’t really care about your Hogsmeade trip. The two essays are due Wednesday.” Before she had assigned the essays, I hadn’t liked her; now I knew why.  
  
“Uhh… Jacob,” she said, looking at me curiously.  
  
“What?” I asked.  
  
“Did you seriously forget about the Ancient Runes essays?”  
  
Did I seriously say that out loud? Apparently. Maybe next time I talked to her I should focus on the conversation and not on her face. Yeah… maybe that would be a good idea.  
  
“Well,” Lily said again, breaking into my thoughts and making me jump, “I’m going to go put this in my dormitory, and then we can go for breakfast.”  
  
I hadn’t been hungry before, only tired, but now that she had mentioned breakfast, I realized that I was hungry. My stomach growled loudly at the thought of food and Lily laughed.  
  
“I’d better be quick, then,” she said, dashing up the stairs. She came back down a minute later. That was quick. We walked quickly down to the Great Hall, each preoccupied in our own thoughts; mine were a mixture of food and Lily.  
  
The Great Hall was about half-full; I guess there were some people that had elected to stay here, sleep in, and eat later. Much as I liked that idea, I wanted to go to Hogsmeade.  
  
“Did you bring money?” Lily asked me as we sat down.  
  
“Money?” I repeated as I slathered butter on my toast. “Why would I need money?”  
  
“Oh, right,” Lily said to herself, “I forgot. You haven’t been to Hogsmeade before.”  
  
“Of course I haven’t,” I said, taking a bite of toast. Chewing and swallowing quickly, I added, “therefore, I wouldn’t know whether or not I would need to bring money.” She rolled her eyes at that.  
  
“But yes, Jacob, you will need to bring money,” she told me. “Hogsmeade trips generally take all day; we’ll get back in time for dinner. So we’ll be there over lunch and you’ll obviously need money to buy lunch, plus whatever stuff you buy from the stores there.”  
  
“So how much should I bring?” I asked. Looking at her face I added, exasperated, “As we just talked about, I haven’t been to Hogsmeade.”   
  
Lily shrugged. “It depends what you want to spend it on. If you have a huge sweet tooth and you want to stop at Honeydukes - sweet shop - you should probably bring a lot. If we’re going to spend the entire trip in the Three Broomsticks - which is a combination of inn and pub - then you won’t need as much. Personally, I’m bringing at least 100 galleons.”  
  
I nodded as I took a group of breakfast sausages. “That seems like it’ll be enough, I guess. So when do we leave?”     
  
“Well,” Lily said slowly, moving the food around on her plate, “if it’s anything like last year - which it should be, it doesn’t make sense to suddenly change things and confuse everyone - then we’ll leave about two hours from now from the Clock Tower Courtyard.”   
  
“That gives us enough time to finish breakfast and grab money.”  
  
“Easily enough time,” Lily replied.  
  
I finished my plate of sausages. “Look, I’m going to go back and get my money,” I told her. “Then I’m going to sit in the common room and wait, maybe finish those Ancient Runes essays.” I raised my eyebrows and then regretted it, feeling stupid.  
  
“Hey,” Lily said defensively, raising her hands, “I finished the first one. Unlike someone here, who seems to have forgotten entirely about them.”  
  
I rolled my eyes, got up, and left her.         
  
*  
  
The common room was filled with people, many of them lounging around, like me, waiting for the proper time to leave to go to Hogsmeade. I kicked a first year out of one of the armchairs by the fire, which was now blazing away happily, and sat down, essay draft in hand.   
  
By the time Lily was shaking me to tell me it was time to go, I had finished the first essay and was halfway through the second. Putting my stuff away in my trunk, I joined her back in the common room, tucking my money purse away in my robes and swinging my heavy clock over my shoulders.  
  
When we got to the Clock Tower Courtyard, we discovered that we were the last in line to get in the carriages. Almost everyone had gotten on, except for us and another pair of people who looked familiar. I was pretty sure I’d seen them before. Lily huffed unhappily and turned away from them.  
  
“What?” I muttered, leaning down to talk in her ear.  
  
“I really don’t want to sit with them,” she whispered back, gesturing at the two people, both Slytherins. I thought house prejudice was supposed to be gone?  
  
Professor Frenzen came around, presumably overseeing the departure and making sure everyone got away fine. “Okay, Ms. Malfoy, Mr. Lestrange, you two will have to share with Ms. Potter and Mr. Walker here,” he said. “I’m afraid this is the last carriage we have left.”  
  
Of course. That’s why their names sounded familiar. Stoddard Lestrange, of the Portable-Swamp-in-his-own-dungeon prank (what a bad idea), and Sagitta Malfoy, his… what? Girlfriend? Yes, I remember talking with Lily about this a few weeks ago: Sagitta and Stoddard were dating, and she didn’t like it. Apparently they had a huge argument about it. And for the record, I do remember Stoddard magically throwing me into a wall. It’s not easy to forget.   
  
I nudged Lily and said, “might as well get this over with. We can find a different carriage on the way back.” She nodded slowly and followed the Slytherin pair into the carriage. I climbed in after her.  
  
“Scooch over, Lily,” I told her, “I can’t sit crammed into one corner for the whole trip.” She moved over unwilling. As I sat down, I noticed that she and Sagitta were glaring daggers at each other. I swear, if looks could kil…  
  
“I guess I was right,” Sagitta said coldly, glaring at Lily then shifting her gaze to me. “You’re going with him to Hogsmeade. I guess I was right.” She leaned back, a satisfied smirk on her face. I stared at Stoddard. He seemed a lot more subdued than when we had met in the Slytherin dungeon, exchanged hexes. His had missed; mine rebounded off his Shield Charm and had come back. So if you want to be technical about it, I threw myself into the wall by not ducking away from my own hex.   
  
In fact, as he met my gaze he seemed to be almost embarrassed, as if he remembered that night too and regretted his actions. I didn’t know; in my conversation with Lily, she had made him out to be a human version of the devil. That was probably stretching it a bit, but she hadn’t said anything nice about him, either.   
  
Speaking of Lily, she and Sagitta were still arguing with each other. I rolled my eyes and leaned over to stare out the window. This was going to be a long trip.  
  
*  
  
Finally. The carriage rolled to a stop, the door opened, and I hopped out gladly, stretching my limbs. Those things really are too short; someone who’s as tall as I am can’t sit comfortably. My legs had nowhere to go.   
  
Lily got out by herself, still arguing with Sagitta, who was followed out by Stoddard, who stared at me and rolled his eyes. It seemed like he was an entirely different person from the one I had met in the dungeon and the one Lily had ranted about. Maybe Sagitta was a good influence on him. I didn’t know.   
  
“So,” I said to Lily, “where are we going first?” As we followed the flood of people into the village proper, I scanned the shop names. Being tall has its advantages; my shoulders were at the level of most people’s heads, so I could a) see where I was going and b) look at the shops and see which ones looked interesting.   
  
Having never been in Hogsmeade proper, I also took the opportunity to look around. Hogsmeade, or what I could see of it, appeared to be a picturesque village, filled with a mixture of smallish cottages and stores. Autumn leaves swirled around on the ground, even though the wind was barely noticeable.  
  
“Honeydukes, I think,” Lily said firmly, pointing at a orange-coloured shop that was, appropriately, sporting a lollypop for decoration.  
  
We walked inside and as soon as I took a breath I knew that I would be spending quite a lot of money here. The smell of candy positively filled the air, each different one lending a unique odour to the mix. I recognized Pumpkin Pasties, Treacle Fudge, Licorice Wands, and many others.   
  
Lily walked over to a stand labelled “Honeydukes’ Best Chocolate”, picked up a package, and handed it to me.  
  
“Here,” she said, “this is the best chocolate you’ll probably ever have.”  
  
I turned it over in my hands. “Is there a price label on this?”  
  
“Not on that, but there is on the sign.” She pointed to it: 15 sickles each. Okay. That’s easy math. I grabbed a handful.   
  
“Is there a basket or something I can use?”  
  
“Just hold it,” Lily said. “Trust me, you’ll be able to carry much more than that in your hands.”  
  
We browsed the store, looking at stuff and adding a lot of candy to the constantly-growing, now gigantic pile in my hands. By the time we walked up to the counter to pay for it all, I swear we had at least 100 galleons worth of stuff. The shopkeeper laughed and said, “Stocking up now, are we?” He then counted all the candy and added, “That’ll be 150 galleons.”  
  
“We’ll split it,” Lily said to me. “75 each. We both mostly emptied our coin purses in order to pay for it. Taking pity on us, the shopkeeper gave us a big bag to carry it in.   
  
“Here,” he said, “it’s charmed so it’s not as heavy.” I picked it up off the counter with a groan.  
  
“Did the charm work?” I joked, trying to hold this bag without leaning over. Man it was heavy.   
  
“Here,” the shopkeeper said, pulling out his wand. He tapped the bag again, and it suddenly felt much lighter. I exhaled loudly. “That’s better.  
  
“Okay,” Lily said as we exited Honeydukes, “where should be go next?”  
  
“I don’t know,” I answered. “We have how much money left, between us? Fifty galleons? Seventy-five? I brought about 150.” Just then I noticed a dark-haired man in a cloak leaning against a building across the street, watching us. Uncomfortably, I switched the bag into my left hand and put my right hand into my coat, feeling for my wand. “Who’s that? Do you know them?” I added, nodding at the man.   
  
“What man?” Lily asked, then she stopped as she saw. “Oh. Hi dad!”  
  
“Dad?” I asked, confused, as Lily quickly crossed the distance between us and him. The man stepped into the light, and I recognized him immediately. Harry Potter. I decided to hang back and give them a little family time, but Mr. Potter noticed me almost at once.  
  
“Hello,” he said, as a gust of wind blew his cloak around and lifted his greying hair out of his face, revealing his famous lightning scar. “And who are you?”  
  
“Uh.. Jacob Walker, sir,” I said. Might as well be respectful.   
  
“Walker…” he said slowly. Then he looked at me critically. “Are you Tarquin Walker’s son?”    
  
“Yes,” I replied, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. So many people compared me to my dad it was a little annoying, to be honest.   
  
“I can tell. You look a lot like him,” Mr. Potter stated. Then he shook his head. “You probably hate hearing that. I know a lot of people compared me to my dad.”   
  
“Nah, it’s okay,” I said.   
  
“What’s in the bag?” Mr. Potter asked, leaning over slightly to look at it. Seeing the contents, he laughed. “A great big bag of candy, huh? I swear, Lily,” he added, turning to look at her, “you can tell you’re related to Ron all right.”  
  
“So, Dad,” Lily asked, “why exactly are you here?”  
  
Mr. Potter exhaled, looked at the two of us, and said, “You know, I think we should talk somewhere quieter. How about in front of the Shrieking Shack? No one goes there anymore, now that the rumours about it being haunted have stopped.”  
  
I shrugged. “Okay.” Now that he had said that it was a matter for private discussion, I think I knew exactly what we were going to talk about: my nutter aunt.  
  
I had never explained to Lily why I had left the Great Hall yesterday morning when my mother sent me the letter about Alexandra. To be honest, it was because I had forgotten about her after all these years. Being reminded of her now just dredged up a lot of bad memories, things that I’d have preferred to forget. I’m not going to go into detail, but I will say this: she wasn’t particularly good in the aunt department.  
  
We reached the Shrieking Shack, and Mr. Potter stopped in front of the fence, one hand resting lightly on it. His wedding ring glinted in the sun. “You know,” he reminisced, “this used to be the meeting place for friends, maybe couples. If they hadn’t already parked themselves in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop, that is.” Lily laughed lightly. He turned around to look at me. “Rumour was that the Shack was haunted with someone who would shriek and howl at night, causing the locals to believe it was haunted. But it wasn’t.” He shook his head. “It was just a werewolf, one of the best men I ever knew.”  
  
“Teddy’s dad,” Lily interjected.   
  
“Yes,” Mr. Potter said. “Now,” he added, addressing me in particular, “I can tell by the look on your face you know exactly what I’m going to talk about.”  
  
“My aunt,” I said unwillingly. Merlin, why couldn’t I have a normal family? Is that too much to ask?               
  
“Exactly. Your aunt. Now, you’d think that one lone witch couldn’t possibly make a lot of trouble for our well-trained Auror office,” Mr. Potter said, “but-”  
  
I groaned, interrupting him. “She’s not just one lone witch, is she? I mean, none of my family ever got the impression that she had any friends, especially friends that would commit murder beside her.”  
  
“Much as I don’t like the fact that you just cut me off,” Mr. Potter said - oops - “this is new information to us. Unfortunately, we don’t know whether or not she’s working with anybody, because she hasn’t tried anything yet. So, Mr. Walker - can I just call you Jacob?”  
  
“Sure,” I said.   
  
“Okay, Jacob, we haven’t been able to get any information on her. Your father has been busy with other cases, and the rest of your family hasn’t been returning our owls. So, if you have anything you could share, that would be nice.”  
  
I looked at him. He was a fairly tall man, just a little bit shorter than I was. I said, “What do you want to know? Everything about her?”    
  
“That would be helpful,” Mr. Potter said.   
  
“Well, she’s not actually my aunt,” I began. I then repeated, pretty much word for word, the letter that my mother had sent me yesterday. “Now, we haven’t seen her since the trial; even her threat was published in the Daily Prophet.”  
  
“Why the Daily Prophet?” Mr. Potter mused. “That’s controlled by the Ministry; they shouldn’t be publishing threats against Ministry officials. Although,” he conceded, “knowing the way they’ve behaved in the past, a threat is exactly the kind of thing I could see them printing. Hm. I’ll have to look into that.” He locked eyes with me. “Anything else?”  
  
“No,” I answered, shaking my head.   
  
“Uh, Dad,” Lily broke in, “I know I already asked you this before, but you don’t usually come to Hogsmeade. Why today?”  
  
“Well,” Mr. Potter told her, “several reasons. One, I was hoping to catch you here and talk to you about Alexandra Walker, mainly because my letter didn’t say anything at all.”  
  
“Yeah, I gathered that,” Lily grumbled.  
  
“I felt that I could talk to you better in person,” he said, raising his hands defensively.   
  
“Dad,” Lily said matter-of-factly, “up to now, you haven’t actually said anything specifically to me. You’ve just been talking to him.” She gestured in my direction.   
  
“The second reason - and no, I’m not ignoring you, Lily - the second reason was that I need to talk to Professor McGonagall about what I just talked to you two about. Just in case Alexandra comes anywhere near Hogwarts.”  
  
“This seems similar to what happened in your third year when Sirius was on the run,” Lily observed.    
  
“It is,” Mr. Potter said. “Although this time we’re absolutely positive that she’s guilty, and there aren’t going to be any Dementors involved either.” He pulled a pocketwatch out of his breast pocket. “Oh, I have to go talk to McGonagall now. See you later, Lily.” He pulled her into a hug, released her, and stared at me. “And you, Jacob, I like you, but keep your hands off my daughter.”   
  
“Uh…” I said, and Mr. Potter held out his hand. I shook it, not knowing what else to do. Then he released my hand and Disapparated silently. The silence that he left behind was awkward; Lily and I stared at each other without saying anything.  
  
I cleared my throat. “So, uh, what time is it?”   
  
Lily pulled out her pocketwatch and checked. “Lunchtime,” she said. We began walking back towards the main street. “The Three Broomsticks?” she suggested.  
  
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed. I hadn’t eaten all that much at breakfast - 4 breakfast sausages and a piece of toast are not all that filling - and I was hungry.  
  
We ended up sharing a monstrous chicken and ham pie; I took one look at it, hungry as I was, and said “I can’t eat this all by myself.” So Lily helped. As we ate, we talked about various things: what it was like having parents work for the Ministry (not fun), how we felt having to wait a month for the first Quidditch game (not happy about that; we wanted a game to come sooner), and random other crap.   
  
Over the course of our lunch, I noticed that Lily kept sneaking glances at me and then looking away suddenly when I caught her. I swear once or twice I saw her blush. In the almost two months that I had known her, I had never seen her blush. Ever.  
  
When we finally finished, it was pretty much time to go back to Hogwarts. We paid for our lunch and began to walk back to the station. I was feeling extremely full and bloated. Why, oh why did I have so much pie? I swear, it didn’t seem so filling when I was eating it.   
  
I noticed Stoddard Lestrange walking in the same direction as us, on the other side of the street. He caught my eye and, acting kind of embarrassed, jerked his head over in his direction.  
  
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Lily, handing her the bag of candy before I crossed the street to join Stoddard.  
  
“Yes?” I asked warily; I hadn’t forgotten two weeks ago in the dungeon.   
  
He took a deep breath. “Two things. First of all, sorry about two weeks ago. I think you know what I’m talking about, right?” I nodded. “Okay. Second. We need to get our girlfriends to stop arguing!” As he said the last sentence, his voice grew more forceful.  
  
“Lily’s not my girlfriend,” I told him automatically, wishing that that sentence was a lie.  
  
“Are you sure?” Stoddard answered dubiously. “You two seem to spend an awful lot of time together. I’d say that this Hogsmeade trip was an unofficial date for you two.”  
  
I didn’t like the way he said that, so I said coldly, “Lily is not my girlfriend, and we are not on a date. But yes, we do need to get them to stop arguing. Now, from what I understand, they argued about you, and that seemed to be the cause of their falling out.”  
  
“Yes,” Stoddard said reluctantly. Lily was still walking on the other side of the street. We made eye contact, and she raised her eyebrows at me, as if to say “Why are you still talking to him?” I didn’t know what I was supposed to do, so I raised my own eyebrows back at, a lot faster than I had intended. She smiled back and my heart warmed.  
  
“Yeah…” Stoddard said skeptically, “you two totally don’t like each other or anything. You’re flirting with each other right in front of Madam Puddifoot’s, for Merlin’s sakes!” he burst out, sounding exasperated.  
  
I coughed. “Back to the topic of getting Lily and Sagitta to stop arguing in the carriage.”  
  
“I suggest we just break up the argument as soon as it starts,” he said, “because you know it’s going to start.”  
  
“Okay,” I said, leaving him and crossing the street to rejoin Lily.  
  
“What was that about?” she asked.   
  
“Nothing,” I lied. I suppose she’d find out soon enough, as soon as she struck up an argument with Sagitta.   
  
Which, it turns out, was exactly what happened, and true to what Stoddard and I had agreed on, it didn’t last very long. Thank Merlin.  
  
“No more arguing!” Stoddard burst out. “I’m going to lose my sanity!”  
  
I wasn’t going to lose anything; I could barely hear the conversation - I had a monstrous headache, probably from the shouting (Merlin, Lily had a temper) and I was leaning against the side of the carriage with my eyes closed, trying in vain to shut out the noise. I heard Stoddard say “I can’t take this anymore, and we’ve just been stuck here for ten minutes! Now,” his voice become quieter, “I know what you two argued about: me. I think the argument is a little pointless. Sagitta made the conscious choice to go out with me.” I opened my eyes as he finished his mini speech and started rubbing his temple. No doubt he also had a headache. We pulled up by the entrance into the Clock Tower Courtyard and I opened the door so we could get out, my head still pounding. I was definitely going to have to take a potion when I got back to Gryffindor Tower.   
  
I walked quickly there, trying not to wince at both the torch light and the noise from the now-full castle. Thankfully, I managed to beat the majority of the house back to our common room, and our dormitory, happily, was also empty. I rummaged quickly through my trunk, looking for a Painkilling Potion. Grabbing it, I twisted the top off, read the dosage instructions, found a spoon, and poured. It tasted horrible, but the pain in my head stopped immediately. I replaced everything back in my trunk, straightened up, and took a critical look around the dormitory. This was going to get cleaned.   


	11. Interlude the First

Alexandra Walker sat cross-legged on the floor, rolls of parchment spread out before her. Her wand was beside her, and she held a quill in her right hand, poised above the parchment. A tall, scarred man walked into the room, holding a Butterbeer.   
  
“Love, can I get you anything?” he asked. When she waved him off he added, “How’s it going?”  
  
“Good,” she replied, pushing her pixie-cut blonde hair out of her eyes. “I’m trying to narrow the list down, but I’m having trouble. I’d like to go after someone close to him, but I can’t figure out exactly who. What I want is someone regarded as secure. I want power over him, Luc,” she firmly told the man. “I want him to worry about who I’m going to go after next.” She turned back to the parchment. Shoving some of them aside, she revealed pictures underneath. “So far, I have five choices. Some of them are going to be easier to hit than others, obviously. Teddy Lupin is his godson; that loss would hit him hard.”  
  
“As it would,” Luc said, nodding. “Now, Lupin is a member of a dueling club, even though he isn’t an Auror, so he’s not going to be defenseless. And,” he added, reaching into a bag by the wall and pulling out a quill, “if you attack him near his wife, he’s going to fight that much harder. He won’t want to die in front of his wife, leave them alone. Who are the other options?”  
  
“Ginny Potter, his wife. I’m thinking that maybe I should hold off on her,” Alexandra answered. “She’s very skilled, and I want to develop better tactics before taking her down.”  
  
“Yes, killing his wife would certainly make a point, I think,” Luc mused. “It would probably also make him try and kill you when he finds you.”  
  
“Luc, I’m not afraid of Harry Potter,” Alexandra said coldly. “He may have gotten the better of me once, but I intend to come out on top this time.” Adopting a lighter tone, she continued. “Option three is Molly Weasley. Now, I’m kind of wary of her. She killed Bellatrix Lestrange during the Battle of Hogwarts. I worked with Bellatrix once when I was a Snatcher, and she was one of the most powerful witches I’ve met.”  
  
“That was 30 years ago. She’s probably slowed down,” Luc suggested. “Last two?”  
  
“Lily and James,” she told him. “His oldest son and his only daughter. Now, James is working with the Department of Magical Games and Sports as a junior intern. If we could get into the Ministry, hit him, and get out without being seen, I would go for him then. It would cause more fear if we struck into the Ministry itself. Of course, there’s the whole ‘everyone’s looking for me’ problem, so I propose that if we are going to go after him, we do it after hours, when he’s in his flat.”  
  
“Where does he live?”  
  
“Here in London, in a sort of wizarding subdivison off of Diagon Alley. The advantage of that is that he can’t directly Apparate there; the wards prevent that. Therefore, he has to walk, and we could hit him then. Lily,” she continued, shifting directions, “is at Hogwarts. If I could kill her without too much trouble, I would, believe me. But Hogwarts currently is too well-protected for me to get at her, unfortunately. That loss would really hit him hard. And,” she added, pausing to think, “you know who else is at Hogwarts? My nephew.”  
  
“Jacob?”  
  
“Yes. Merlin, I hate that kid. Never liked him. He was too temperamental when he was younger and when Tarquin - who I never liked either - moved them all to Canada when Phoebe got transferred I was quite happy, to be honest. So,” she considered, “taking him out would make me happier.”  
  
“He was so annoying that you want to kill him?” Luc asked disbelievingly.   
  
Alexandra cocked her head, thinking. “He wasn’t really annoying. I just didn’t like him at all, and from what I can tell, the feeling is mutual.”  
  
Luc took one of the pieces of parchment from the floor and looked at it critically. Holding it in one hand and his quill in the other, he began copying it onto the wall. As he drew, what exactly the parchment contained was revealed: the Weasley family tree. When he finished, he turned and looked back at Alexandra.  
  
“Are you sure this won’t be found?” he asked skeptically.   
  
“Luc, the Ministry already knows I’m coming after them,” she answered. “So if they find this, it won’t necessarily be a surprise to them. After all, I did send an owl directly to Harry Potter, in addition to the ad in the Daily Prophet. He’s aware that I’m going to kill members of his family, and then go after him last.”  
  
*  
  
Harry Potter stood at the head of the conference table, his arms folded over his chest.  
  
“I’m not just going to let her threaten my family,” he said, his voice razor-sharp. “Or yours, Tarquin,” he added, nodding in the direction of a blonde-haired Auror who was sitting at the other end.   
  
“Well, what are we supposed to do about it?” Lucian Fleetwood, another Auror, asked. “We don’t know where she is or who she’s going to go after first.”  
  
“Harry,” Tarquin Walker called out, “when Alexandra was younger, she always used to spend her time in, um, unsavoury places. Like Knockturn Alley and the suburbs that surround it. Much as my father tried to persuade her away from those places, she went there anyways, like she was attracted to the, uh, culture there.”  
  
“Great,” Harry said, clapping his hands. “I guess we’ll go there first and see what we can find. On another note, Friday morning I owled Minerva at Hogwarts when we sent letters out. She promised to talk to our kids, let them know what was going on, as well as start advanced lessons in defensive magic, just in case.”  
  
“I don’t know about you,” Tarquin said, “but I made sure my wife gave Jacob all the details. He’s fifteen, I think he’s old enough to know about all this.”  
  
“I met up with Lily in Hogsmeade earlier today,” Harry replied. “She was with Jacob, and he had already given her everything he knew. As a matter of fact, he ended up telling me things. Admittedly, these were things that you would have told us anyways, but you were busy with the security for the upcoming Puddlemere United-Appleby Arrows Quidditch game, weren’t you?”  
  
“I was,” Tarquin acknowledged. “What a mess it was, too. It’s something I’ll go into later. Right now we need to plan Knockturn Alley patrols.”


	12. Double Dosage of Defence (Lily)

Sunday came and went. In an event that shocked the entire house, Jacob had cleaned the fifth year boys dormitory by himself. I still wasn’t sure how he had managed to do it so quickly (he was only upstairs for like an hour or two) or why he would want to do that. Apart from, you know, the obvious reason of ‘there’s too much junk in here I can’t stand it’.   
  
Monday morning at breakfast McGonagall mailed us practice schedules, like she had promised. When I got mine, I stared at it in disbelief.    
  
"The first practice is tonight, after curfew, here." I lowered the piece of parchment and looked at Jacob, who was sitting across the table from me. "That’s not exactly a lot of warning, is it?"    
  
"No, it’s not," he agreed. "Good thing we didn’t have anything else important to do." He frowned at his own letter before shoving it in his bag. "Ready for double Defense?"    
  
"Nope," I said cheerily. He laughed.    
  
"I guess you're just going to have to hope that you don't have to go today," he said.    
  
"There's four of us left," I told him. "I really don't think there's any point in hoping. The duels don't take that long; we'll probably all go today and this tournament will be wrapped up." I folded McGonagall's practice schedule and put it in my own bag as the bell rang. We were sitting at the end of the table, closest to the door so we were relatively near the front of the tide of people that crested out the door and into the hall. The tide split up as we walked farther from the Great Hall: people went to their different classes and people with free periods went back to their common rooms, presumably either to do homework or go back to bed. It was Monday, after all.    
  
As we walked to class, I took the opportunity to sneak a few glances at Jacob out of the corner of my eye, and saw him doing the same thing. I managed to look away before he caught me, though. Even though he was doing exactly what I was doing, I felt a little shy at having him catch me staring at him. Thankfully, that shyness didn't extend to actually talking with him, which was good, because otherwise Prefect patrols would be unbearable.    
  
When we got to Defense, I was very surprised by the layout of the room: the long stage that we had used for dueling was gone. Instead, there were normal desks facing a blackboard and a stack of what looked like textbooks at the front. A woman, obviously not Professor Blenkinsop, stood beside the blackboard.    
  
The rest of the class filed in slowly and stood motionless, evidently just as surprised as I was to see a normal Defense classroom, which had been unheard of since the start of the year, a month and a half ago.    
  
"What...." someone behind me said slowly, "I thought we were...."    
  
The woman interrupted him. "You thought that you would continuing the duels? Unfortunately, Professor Blenkinsop is not here today - he was called to the Ministry, but he will return in time for your next lesson on Friday."    
  
As she ushered us to sit down, I'm sure the question was hovering, unspoken, on all our lips: why was he called to the Ministry? There was an additional question I wanted to know that, of all my class, only Jacob and Hugo could be wondering: did his absence having anything to do with Jacob's pyscho aunt?    
  
The teacher pulled her wand out of her robes and sent the stack of textbooks zooming around the room so that one landed on every desk. "My name is Professor Furmage," she announced, tucking one of her dreadlocks behind her ear. "Usually, I work at the Ministry of Magic, teaching prospective Aurors, but since Professor Blenkinsop is there right now I was sent here." She began walking in between the row of desks, and I turned in my chair to watch her as she continued to talk. Jacob had taken a seat on the other side of the room and as I followed Professor Furmage down the room we made eye contact. As I watched him, his eyebrows flashed up into his hairline and then quickly dropped back down, a gesture that sent a rush through my body. Despite my attempts to stop it, I could feel myself blushing, and I looked away hastily, hoping he couldn't see it.    
  
The rest of the lesson, I could barely pay attention, distracted as I was by Jacob. If you didn't know anything about having a crush on somebody who then flirted with you, it leaves you unable to concentrate and you can't think of anything. You just focus on them as your insides turn to a curious mixture of rubber and very high-strung butterflies. And, if you're lucky enough, every time you turn and look at them they keep doing it and you get even more flustered. Jacob, all I want to do is pay attention, get this essay that was just assigned started and not get picked on for visibly daydreaming.  
  
Although, much as I might hate to admit it, part of me was enjoying it. The other part of me was chiding myself for being distracted by a boy and not paying attention in class. If anybody had heard out loud the mental argument I was having in my head, they would think I was crazy. James had already called me that before, so I didn't really consider it a big deal, but people I didn't really know (even after four years of school) might think I was weird if I just shrugged it off.    
  
As the people rang to signal the end of double Defence (and the start of a free period), I was packing my stuff away quickly, hoping to avoid people and go finish this in the library before Professor Vector dumped a ridiculous amount of homework on us in Arithmancy again. Besides, if I hid in the library I wouldn't have to see Jacob and he wouldn't be able to embarrass me by flirting. And yes, I was fully aware that I liked him back and could simply return the flirtation. Part of me was too shy and the other part of me wanted to see how this would drag out. Hey, Mum waited five or six years for Dad to grow a brain and love her back. I didn't think my life would be destroyed if I refrained from hitting on my crush.    
  
And so I walked into the library, sat down at one of the tables right in front of a bookshelf, pulled out my ink, parchment, and quill and prepared to write.    
  
Then I realized that I had been zoned out when Professor Blenkinsop's substitute - Furmage, or whatever her name had been - had explained exactly what the essay was supposed to be on. I didn't know what I was suppose to be writing about.    
  
Bollocks.    
  
With nothing better to do, I started packing all my stuff back into my bag, and then my eye caught the shelf of books that I was sitting next to. _Deciphering the Male Species: A Guide for Teenage Witches_ was the first book that I read. Presumably elsewhere there was a book entitled _Deciphering the Female Species: A Guide for Teenage Wizards_ , but I didn't need that one.    
  
I pulled the book (about deciphering the male species, not female) from the shelf, carefully dropped my bag off my shoulder and onto the ground, and sat down, flipping it open.    
  
Where to start, where to start? Maybe the chapter on flirting. Considering Defence, that seemed like a good idea.    
  
 _Chapter 5: How Men Flirt_ , I read. I continued reading, looking at all these things I would now have to watch Jacob for. Apparently guys were a lot different from girls; the more I read, I could tell that the author of this book had had a sense of humour when he titled it.  
  
Also, apparently I was so engrossed in this book that I failed to notice anybody coming up to me. So when a hand was unexpectedly laid on my shoulder I shrieked "Merlin's pants!", dropped the book on the table, where it shut, and turned around, simultaneously hoping that it both was and wasn't-    
  
"Oh," I said, catching my breath. "Hi Declan." I glared at him and when he started laughing I told him coldly, "Don't do that again. You might get hexed, you know."    
  
Now Declan was the one pausing to catch his breath. He was leaning over slightly, holding his side, when he spotted the book. Straightening up, he looked down at me, one eyebrow raised slightly. "Deciphering the Male Species?" he read, making it sound like a question, which it undoubtedly was.    
  
"What?" I said innocently.    
  
Declan picked it up. "Why do you need this?" he asked, sounding very amused. "Does it perhaps have something to do with Jacob?" he continued in a lighter tone. The other eyebrow had raised now as well.    
  
Don't blush don't blush don't blush don't-    
  
For Merlin's sakes, this is ridiculous.    
  
Declan didn't miss it. Quickly, he set the book down again and plopped into the seat opposite him, while I watched him, my arms crossed in front of my chest and my jaw locked.    
  
"So," he said casually, "what's up between you and Jacob?"    
  
"Nothing," I lied.    
  
"Oh, really? Then why aren't you with him? Don't you two usually spend a lot of your free time together?" He leaned forward. "Besides, if nothing was happening between you two, why would you be in here, the Monday after the Hogsmeade trip that you two went on together," he emphasized the together, "looking up how guys flirt? Let me guess, Lily. After you went on a date to Hogsmeade-"    
  
"It wasn't a date," I interrupted.    
  
"Let me finish," he berated me, raising a hand. "After you two went on a date to Hogsmeade on Saturday, he cleaned his dormitory, which shocked the entire house."    
  
I chuckled, remembering how Hugo had come running down into the common room yelling "It's clean! Why? Why is it clean?" Jacob had followed him down and laughed as the entire common room, myself included, stared at Hugo in stunned silence as he explained how their dormitory was now spick-and-span.   
  
"Then today he probably hit on you. It wasn't at breakfast, because I most likely would've noticed it. So I'm going to assume that it was during class, which you've told me is Double Defence."    
  
"How do you know all this?" I demanded.    
  
"I'm talented," he answered, grinning. "And the fact that you were reading the chapter on how guys flirt kind of gave it away."    
  
"Oh," I said, "right."    
  
"So what?" Declan continued, "did Jacob flirting with you unsettle you that much? Lily, I think he's made it apparent for a while now that he likes you. He just started to act on it. What did he do, by the way?"    
  
I struggled to think of a way to describe it, and gave up. "He did this," I said, imitating it. Declan leaned back in his chair and said, nodding his head, "Yep."    
  
"Yep what?"    
  
He ignored it. "So, tell me about this Hogsmeade-date-but-not-really. What did you do?"   
  
I cast my mind back. "We went to Honeydukes, bought the entire store-" I smiled at the memory - "met with my dad, talked to him, then had lunch in The Three Broomsticks."    
  
"Only The Three Broomsticks?" Declan pried, "not Madam Puddifoot's?"    
  
"No, not Madam Puddifoot's."    
  
"Oh," he said, sounding a little disappointed, "I guess that'll be for the Valentine's Day trip, then." He brightened up a bit. "But you two still spent the entire day together, and you introduced him to your dad! That's a start!"    
  
"Declan, seriously." I rolled my eyes as the bell rang. "Time for Arithmancy," I groaned.    
  
"If you hate Arithmancy so much why did you take it?" Declan asked as we left the library.    
  
"My aunt said it was interesting," I replied. "I think I'm beginning to question her judgement a little bit. Or at least her choice of electives."    
  
*    
  
Like I had predicted, Arithmancy was another huge homework dump. Or rather, we were assigned the world's largest book and told us to read the first three chapters by Thursday. You suck, Professor Vector.    
  
Jacob I and sat together in Arithmancy, since Professor Vector decided to switch everything up and change the seating plan that nobody listened to anyone. But judging from the way Jacob was fidgeting at the table - and the fact that when she announced everybody's places, he did the eyebrow-flash thing again at me - I don't think the two of us will be sitting with other people anytime soon.    
  
But what I was really looking forward to, to be honest, was the practice tonight. If I was correct, we would end up learning either advanced offensive magic or advanced defensive magic, which would help me both against Jacob's psycho aunt and in the duels in Defence. Since Jacob was eliminated from the Defence duels, I suppose the marks part of my motivation didn't exist for him.    
  
So after dinner we gathered in the Great Hall: the six of us that had been deemed mature enough to need to learn how to protect ourselves. What I meant by that was that my younger cousins - Dominique and Louis, for example, who were in first and second year, respectively - weren't going anywhere by themselves, so they didn't need to learn defensive spells that they wouldn't have been able to cast anyways.    
  
I don't know about the others, but Jacob, Hugo and I had gone and changed into looser clothing. When we came back down, clutching our wands, the tables had been pushed off to the side and there was a group of what looked like three Aurors, along with a returned Professor Blenkinsop standing by the teacher's table. Professor Longbottom was also here, for some reason. He was the Herbology teacher. What was he doing here, in a meeting for practicing offensive and defensive spells?    
  
We stood, waiting, in groups. Well, not really in groups. Albus, Rose, and Scorpius stood together, and Jacob and I were beside each other. Hugo was the loner. Hah. It's just like Christmas.    
  
"Professor Longbottom," Albus said, confused, "why are you here?"    
  
He shrugged. "Even though I'm the Herbology teacher I do know a bit about countering the Dark Arts. Do you know what happened in my seventh year?"    
  
"Uh... Voldemort?" Hugo guessed, sounding sarcastic. Git.    
  
"He took over Hogwarts and I, along with Luna Lovegood and your mother" Professor Longbottom nodded at Albus and I, "led a resistance movement. It was a continuation of a group that formed to learn defensive magic two years earlier. So I would say I know what I'm doing, aside from the fact that I was an Auror for two years after Voldemort's death." He clapped his hands. "Okay, let's begin."    
  
The three Aurors walked over and joined him. I didn't recognize any of them, which surprised me. Part of me had expected my dad to be here, since he was the Head of the Auror Office and the reason why we were here did concern him, after all. But I guess he had other things to do. (Maybe he just wanted to spend quiet time with Mum. I don't know.)    
  
"I think today we'll cover some lighter curses. Now, this is still dark magic, so any of you who aren't mature enough to refrain from casting these spells on your classmates should leave."    
  
"Bye, Hugo," Rose and I said together, laughing after we realized we had said it at the same time. Anyone who spent more than 5 minutes with Hugo could tell why he hadn't been made Prefect.    
  
Hugo rolled his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," he said.    
  
After being shown the Reductor Curse and the Conjunctivitis Curse, we split into pairs to practice them (on dummies, not on each other, thankfully). Albus was sent to work with Hugo, and Jacob and I worked together. Rose and Scorpius, having banished their friend, proceeded to have what looked like happy couple cursing time. I swear.    
  
Jacob and I moved away from Albus, who was trying to teach Hugo how to aim. I swear, if Alexandra Walker ever finds Hugo, his best option is probably running away.    
  
We both mastered the Reductor Curse really quickly. Then we discovered that magically repairing an exploded test dummy wasn't possible, so we "borrowed" one. The Conjunctivitis Curse was a lot harder, because the wand movement was more complicated and I couldn't figure out how to reproduce it. Jacob got it though, and seemed to patiently put up with my futile attempts to cast it.    
  
After about ten minutes worth of casting, where he stood behind me and watched, he stepped forward, grabbed my right wrist with one hand, placed the other on my shoulder and said into my ear, "Like this." He controlled my wrist at the same time that I attempted to control my breathing.    
  
Okay, all good now and-    
  
"Hey! Could you get your hands off my cousin, please?" Hugo shouted from across the room.    
  
"Piss off," Jacob and I muttered at the same time, laughing when we realized. He slid his hand from my left shoulder across to my right and pulled me back so that I was leaning directly against his chest.    
  
"I said get your hands off, not add more physical contact!" Hugo shouted again. He was seriously beginning to become annoying. I jabbed my wand in his direction and muttered _"Silencio_ ". He shut up immediately and I silently thanked Professor Flitwick for deciding to cover that spell earlier in the year than normal. Then there was a _whooshing_ sound. I didn't bother looking to see what the cause was, being too engrossed in my break.    
  
By now I had closed my eyes and so I only heard, not saw, one of the Aurors say, "Well, I guess Mr. Weasley needs to work on his Shield Charm now!"    
  
"We should probably keep practicing," I told Jacob. He let me go just as reluctantly as I had suggested the return to practice.    
  
We stayed in the Great Hall for another two hours or so, practicing. Jacob, it seemed, took every other free opportunity to make some sort of physical contact, whether it was hands brushing against each other or playfully shoving me when I made a sarcastic comment about the way he was standing as he prepared to cast a spell.    
  
I think I knew when I was done. I could feel the exhaustion in my bones, could barely keep my eyes open, and I wanted nothing more than to go to bed. Yawning, I pulled my watch out of my pocket and stared at it. It was only 8, but I didn't care. I nodded goodnight to everybody and left. The walk back to the common room seemed to take a lot longer than normal, probably just because I was so tired.    
  
I made it, though. I was just ready to sleep outside the portrait hole then and there. "Vaillance," I said sleepily to the Fat Lady, trying to wrap my tongue around the unfamiliar French pronunciation. Why couldn't we just have English passwords? I swear all of the previous ones have been in English, except for maybe one that wasn't.    
  
Ignoring everybody massed in the common room, I went straight to bed and feel asleep as soon as I closed the drapes around my four-poster.


	13. Ravenclaw vs Slytherin (Jacob)

After the practice session, we all returned to our respective common rooms. I hung around in the Great Hall long enough to make sure that Hugo had left, hoping that he would be safely distracted by his friends before I got back. The last thing I needed (and that Lily probably wanted) would be for him to make a huge scene in the middle of the common room and let everyone know what had happened. He didn't need to play the defensive-cousin role. Heck, Albus, who could very well have chosen to stomp over and pick a fight, had noticed without saying anything. He at least knew full well that if Lily had objected to anything, she probably would've hexed me, given how she had reacted to Hugo's being a twit.  
  
I had to admit, though, that despite what I was thinking I had my doubts. When Lily and I had had that all-too brief snuggle, she hadn't responded in any way, and I was beginning to think I had done something wrong, gone a little too far there perhaps. I wasn't going to give up completely, though - I had seen her blush in Defense earlier today. Maybe I had been bold and confident too early? Not understanding girls, I didn't know.  
  
At the next practice, Professor Longbottom - who seemed to have decided to help out - split us up into different groups, perhaps hoping that we'd actually do stuff this time. Monday, as far as I could tell, seemed to have consisted mostly of screwing around and cute couple crap. Rose and Albus worked together, Lily and Hugo practiced in a pair, and Scorpius worked with me.  
  
Unfortunately.  
  
There wasn't anything wrong with working with Scorpius, except for the fact that he was two years older than I was. In addition to changing partners, Professor Longbottom (and the Aurors who had been so unhelpful last time) had also changed around the practice method: we weren't casting spells at practice dummies anymore; we were casting spells at each other.  
  
And Scorpius was good at casting spells, which I hadn't seen Monday. It was now Thursday and I was beginning to wish that someone had warned me about him. I wasn't as good at blocking them, which resulted in quite a few bumps and bruises from being driven to my knees by an Impediment Jinx or a strong Disarming Charm. It was a bit embarrassing, I think, to be beaten so thoroughly by somebody, especially when Lily was right there, and watching a lot of the time. She managed to carry on a full duel with Hugo while watching me get my butt handed to me on a silver platter. Not again, please. And it wasn't like Scorpius was trying to beat me extremely thoroughly or anything - it just happened.  
  
In hindsight, maybe paying less attention to a certain Potter girl and more attention to the spells Scorpius Malfoy was sending my way might have been a better idea. It wasn't really intentional - my eyes just seemed to stare at her of their own accord. I hoped that it wasn't creeping her out.  
  
My Prefect patrols with Lily had changed too. Well, at least the atmosphere was, even if they were still the same time and everything. It was a bit more awkward, and the rare silent periods where we wouldn't talk to each other, just walk together quietly, were excruciating. I wanted to start a conversation, to banter back and forth like before (which happened for the most part) but I couldn't think of anything to say. My mind just kept springing back to Monday night, which would have been welcome at a different time, just not when I was walking with her.  
  
Thankfully, though, those awkward silent periods didn't last the whole patrol. To some, extent, we still bantered back and forth, but I felt a bit more shy (which I don't think is the right word, but it'll have to do) and I didn't want to tease her as much as I had before. She didn't hold back, though, which made me wonder a bit about what her feelings were. I really don't understand girls at all.  
  
There was one event that I think the entire school was looking forward to: the first Quidditch match of the season, which was Ravenclaw vs Slytherin. I had never seen a Quidditch game here - practice was one thing, an actual game was entirely different - and I was anticipating it eagerly. So was the rest of the school: Declan had decided that we were going to analyze the game, not watch it, trying to find weak spots in those two teams that we could exploit when we played them for our matches. Most of us didn't like that. Of course, our reaction might have been influenced by the fact that he had scheduled that practice the morning of the Halloween feast and we were all stuffed, cramped, and tired.  
  
Of course, since everybody wanted to watch the game really badly, it rained on Saturday. Really hard. That morning I had to use an Impervious Charm to see out the window. I didn't know how the two teams were going to see the pitch, let alone play. The Chasers would probably miss the Quaffle, even with Impervious-ed eyes, and I didn't even want to think about the poor Seekers. Being a pain to catch in the best conditions, the Snitch is probably going to be impossible to see in this weather. I have a feeling that this is going to be a long game.  
  
Declan didn't think so, though.  
  
"Well," he said cheerfully, sitting at breakfast with his plate of sausages, "this ought to be short and sweet."  
  
"Who says 'ought', Declan?" Lily asked, spearing a piece of egg with her fork. Her hair was tied back in a messy bun and parts of it were escaping into her face. I wanted to reach over and fix it for her but I wasn't sure it would go over well. Lily had seemed a lot more on edge this week than she had before, and a part of me thought that I had something to do with it. Or last Monday, to be exact.  
  
"I do," Declan replied as he cut one of his sausages in half. "If you really want me to change that word, then fine. This game should be short and sweet because everyone will be trying 110% to win before they get soaked to the skin and end up with really bad colds."  
  
"It doesn't usually rain on Quidditch days," Lily grumped.  
  
"I guess it's because everyone's really hyped up for this one," I replied, laughing.  
  
"Of course it's going to rain on our Quidditch match since everyone wants to see it," Declan replied. He looked around at the Great Hall and watched as people started to filter out, presumably either to go to the Quidditch pitch or to their dorms to fetch a raincoat or an umbrella. "Should we go?" he asked.  
  
I shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. We can go now."  
  
"And get good seats, too," Lily pointed out. "If we leave now, we can get seats at the top of the stands, nice and covered by the roof. We'll be nice and dry."  
  
"Somewhat nice and dry, anyway," I said, glancing at the ceiling. It sure didn't look dry at all; thunderclouds were rumbling across as lightning flashed. If it wasn't for the fact that it was Quidditch, I would be quite content to curl up in front of the fire in the common room with a blanket and sleep.  
  
We made our way out of the Great Hall and down to the Quidditch pitch, only taking a detour back to the common room once we realized that it was cold and rainy outside and we should probably get our cloaks. Even with that slight detour, we were one of the first ones to arrive at the pitch, and therefore we had the best choice of seats.  
  
"Anywhere is fine, I think," Declan said.  
  
"Maybe by the Ravenclaw goal posts?" Lily suggested.  
  
"You want to watch your brother," Declan guessed shrewdly. "Well, I suppose I would too. You know, if I wasn't the only child of two Muggles."  
  
We climbed the stairs to the top of the tower, hunching down against the rain that was leaking through the roof. The spectator towers were for the most part uncovered, and since the stairs were better-protected than the seats were I was fairly confident that we were going to be soaking wet by the time the match was over. I was still holding on to my original prediction that the game would be a long one.  
  
Thankfully, the very top was empty, and we were able to sit there and lean our backs against the tower wall. Lily went first and I went to follow but Declan beat me to it and plopped contentedly on the bench beside her, ignoring me as I slowly say down beside him.  
  
The teams began to fly onto the pitch. "And there's the Ravenclaw team! Potter, Urquhart, MacDougall, Lynch, captain Jewkes, Alderton, and Thrussington!" A moderately deep, dreamy voice seems to be narrating the game.  
  
"Who's that?" I asked Declan.  
  
"That, Jacob," he replied, leaning back and locking his hands behind his head, "is Lysander Scamander."  
  
I wasn't quite sure if there was supposed to be some significance to that, because he said his name like there was, so I pressed on.  
  
"I still don't really know who he is," I added, hoping I wasn't being too irritating.  
  
"Well," Declan began, "he's a Hufflepuff in my year, he narrates the Quidditch matches, and he's my boyfriend."  
  
"Your boyfriend?" I had just automatically assumed that he was a straight, single man, which was stupid of me, I know. "Is he cute?"  
  
Declan turned to look at me and raised an eyebrow. "You're not about to go steal my boyfriend, now, are you?"  
  
I laughed. "You don't need to worry about that. I have my eye on somebody else." Did I really just say that in front of Lily? I wonder if she knew. She couldn't have - I hadn't let on anything, I don't think. Oh well.  
  
The Slytherin team, seven green blurs, began flying onto the pitch. "The Slytherin team is entering now! There's the new captain, Cadwallader - it'll be interesting to see how he decides to lead the Slytherin team after their horrible loss to Hufflepuff last year - followed by Smee, Flint, Bobbin, Lestrange, Wilson, and Tremlett!"  
  
"Horrible loss to Hufflepuff last year?" I muttered to Declan.  
  
"They got crushed," he muttered back. "I don't remember what the score was but it was rather embarrassing."  
  
"Madam Hooch releases the Snitch and the Bludgers, and now the Quaffle, which is immediately taken by Flint for Slytherin! He's going down the pitch, passes to Bobbin, who - ouch, that looked painful." Flint from Slytherin had been on the receiving end of what appeared to be a very wicked Bludger hit from a Ravenclaw Beater. "The Quaffle is stolen by Lynch, who flies down the field, looking in her element. You know, guys, I think she's - yes, Professor Longbottom."  
  
"It must be a running tradition for Quidditch commentators to get off topic," Lily proclaimed to no one in particular. "I mean, Dad and Uncle Ron get talking sometimes about some of the commentary when they were at school - something about Luna Lovegood and 'Loser's Lurgy'? I'm not really sure but they were laughing when they said it."  
  
"Loser's Lurgy?" I said in disbelief. "What is _that_?"  
  
"I'm not sure." After a brief pause in which we watch Lynch score and then Smee from Slytherin even it out, Lily stands up. "I'm going to the bathroom, I'll be back in a few."  
  
"Do you want me to come with you?" I found myself asking.  
  
Lily smiles. "No, Jacob, I don't think that's necessary. I'm fifteen. I most certainly do not need an escort to go to the bathroom. It's not like I'm a first-year that doesn't know where any of the thirty bathrooms are." She walked past us and descends down the stairs with no effort.  
  
"You know," Declan said, "you don't really need to ask to accompany her to the bathroom. Just say that you have to go too and walk with her."  
  
I pushed my wet hair back and out of my eyes. "Gee, that's helpful now. Thanks."  
  
"No problem," he replied, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
By the time Lily returned to sit beside me, not back to her old spot, Ravenclaw and Slytherin are tied at sixty points each, there's been one major Bludger injury - to the face (ouch!) - and the Snitch hasn't even been glimpsed. There haven't been any neck-to-neck dives for a piece of sun glinting off a watch yet, which was surprising to me.  
  
"MacDougall from Ravenclaw's got the Quaffle now, he avoids one Bludger - nice sloth grip roll, if that's what it's called." Declan chuckled. "Nasty hit from the other Bludger," Lysander continued, "and Flint's got it. She dodges both Bludgers, Urquhart, MacDougall, Lynch, and Potter! Seventy-sixty to Slytherin!" Lily sighed.  
  
"We're forty-five minutes in, and there's been no sign whatsoever of the - wait a minute, I think Thrussington's seen something!" His voice became really excited, and I guess he favours Ravenclaw over Slytherin. "She's diving almost straight to the ground, Tremlett's nowhere to be seen, but there's nothing." He sounded confused.  
  
"False Snitch," I muttered.  
  
"Thrussington returns to the air-" "Was she on the ground?" Lily interrupted, and I had to stifle a laugh. "Thrussington returns to the air and continues searching. Meanwhile, Bobbin's got the Quaffle. He passes it to Flint, who easily dekes out MacDougall, and passes back to Bobbin. Bobbin with it, makes a shot but is blocked by Potter! Urquhart with the Quaffle..."  
  
After another half hour, Ravenclaw was leading Slytherin one hundred and fifty to seventy. There haven't been any more sightings of the Snitch, and we're beginning to get very wet up here. Briely, I wondered why we couldn't just stick an Impervious Charm on a coat or something and huddle in together. I kept having to wipe my hair up off my forehead, and since I had nothing else to do with it I slicked it back, knowing full well that it probably looked ridiculous. Declan had some hooded thing that kept his hair dry, so he was nice and comfy - well, as comfy as you can be in the pouring rain - but Lily was having a hair day even worse than mine. Her hair had escaped the bun and was pretty much everywhere. Casually, I picked a piece of hair off my leg and let it drop to the floor.  
  
"I'm just going to cut it all off," she muttered, frustrated, as she glared up at one strand in particular that was hovering by itself above our heads.  
  
"Look!" Declan announced loudly, pointing at the pitch. The two Seekers - Tremlett and Thrussington - had suddenly accelerated and were diving fiercely to the ground.  
  
This was noticed by Lysander Scamander (of course, since he was paid - I think - to announce Quidditch matches) who promptly said, "There go Thrussington and Tremlett, together this time, which means they've definitely seen something. They're neck-and-neck almost, with Thrussington slightly ahead. She stretches her arm out and.. yes! Thrussington's caught the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins three hundred to seventy!"  
  
Ravenclaw house, extravagantly bedecked in blue and bronze, rises to cheer their victorious Quidditch team. Since we apparently chose to sit at the top of the Ravenclaw tower, we have no choice but to wait for them to finish celebrating before we can leave. When they're done - or at least done enough that we can push through - Declan leads the way back into the castle proper, where we all proceed to strip off our soaking wet cloaks.  
  
"I don't know about you two," I said, "but I'm going to sit in front of the fire and do nothing for the rest of the day." It sounds like a nice idea, too good to be true. Which it is, apparently.  
  
"What about those chapters Professor Vector assigned for Arithmancy?" Lily asked. "And we have patrol tonight, too."  
  
My heart sank - at the thought of that stupid Arithmancy book, not patrolling with Lily. I liked patrolling with Lily. I did not really like Arithmancy.  
  
"I guess I'll sit in front of the fire and read those chapters Professor Vector assigned," I decided slowly. "What book was it, anyways?"  
  
Declan took this as his opportunity to leave. "I'm going to go meet with my boyfriend. I'll see you two later."  
  
"Bye," we chorused.  
  
"Uhh..." Lily said, "I think it was _Intermediate Grammatical Theories_?" She didn't sound sure. "Or just look in your trunk for the sticker that says 'Certified: World's Largest Book'. I don't know. I read the three for Thursday without paying attention to what the book was, and now there's more."  
  
I laughed. "What is it with Arithmancy and gigantic books? I swear some days my bag is going to break under the strain."  
  
We began to walk to the common room. "You want to know my secret?" Lily asked conspiratorially. I nodded and she glanced around furtively before muttering, "I use an Undetectable Extension Charm. It works wonders. _Vaillance_." We'd arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady.  
  
"You can't say it either, can you?" I said as we climbed through the portrait hole.  
  
"Can't say what?"  
  
"The password."  
  
"I can say it perfectly, fine, thank you very much." She plopped down in front of the fire happily. "I'm forgetting something. What am I - oh, right. That stupid book." Reluctantly, she heaved herself out of the chair and went upstairs to fetch her book from her dormitory. I did the same and we met back down in the common room. I had part of our bag of sweets from last week's Hogsmeade trip on top of my book (the sweets were still in their wrappers, thank you very much!) so we could snack if we wanted to.  
  
"Okay," I said, stretched out on the couch, book on my chest, "what chapter was it again?"  
  
Lily rolled her eyes at the same time that I crossed my ankles and stretched my arms up in the air. "Four, five, and six," she said patiently. "Toss me a Chocolate Frog."  
  
"You know," I replied as I threw it to her, "I could do this all day."  
  
"What? Avoid homework?" She laughed. "First, we have patrol tonight, there's dinner, you need to read those by Monday...." Lily could have ticked them off on her fingers and her words would have had the same effect. I groaned and reached up to grab the book off my chest.  
  
"Four, five, and six," I said slowly, flipping pages as I sat up. "That's only page... what? Eighty? For Merlin's sakes, this is ridiculous." I grabbed a Licorice Wand and bit the handle off.  
  
"Ninety-two," Lily supplied helpfully.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, flipping my book to the right page. This crap wasn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world. Why did I decide to take this subject? I didn't know.


	14. The Guessing Game (Lily)

At 10:30 pm, the common room was filled with people. Of course, there was nowhere else to go, since everyone but the seventh-years had to be back by now (they had until 10:45 on weekends, which was when our patrol started). Since pretty much everybody was back, Jacob and I hadn't been able to keep our seats by the fire, even after dinner had ended. The seventh-years wanting to be nice and warm while they finished some monster Care of Magical Creatures essay for Professor Grubbly-Plank had a bit of an advantage there.   
  
I was in our dorm, lying on my bed with a book, one in a series about an Auror who runs around like a Hippogriff with his head cut off catching murderers and subduing dragons and gets into all sorts of mischief. Dad had taken one look at the back cover, laughed, and said, "Aurors don't subdue dragons. That's silly." I knew that, of course, but apparently the author of this book didn't. I checked the back of the book. Written by Parvati Bones. The name sounded vaguely familiar. Was it someone my parents had gone to school with? I didn't know.   
  
What I did know was that it was now 10:40 and that I should probably go meet Jacob to start patrolling. Much as I wanted to go spend an hour in Jacob's company, my bed was really comfy and all I particularly desired was to be able to lie in it for hours on end.   
  
As I heaved myself off of my bed and grabbed my wand off the bedside table a dreadlock-covered head stuck itself out of the bathroom and said, "Hey, Lily, we're going to be up for a while. Just letting you know for once you finish your patrol."  
  
I smiled and nodded. I wasn't particularly sure what they planned on doing, but I liked them and it wasn't going to be anything bad.   
  
But right now I had a patrol to go carry out, with someone who I rather enjoyed spending time with, to be honest. I liked Jacob (yes, in that way) and bantering back and forth with him was fun. Even though I felt a bit awkward with him (because of things called feelings which suck sometimes) I liked his company.   
  
And I really needed to get down to the common room, so I quickly left our dormitory and headed down the stairs to join Jacob. He had managed to reclaim one of the couches and was stretched out on it, one arm over his face and the other dangling off the side of the couch.   
  
I walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Oi! We've got patrol." He jumped and awkwardly half-rolled, half-fell onto the floor.   
  
"Lily!" he exclaimed, sounded rather exasperated, as he got up from where he had been lying. "Couldn't you have just let me sleep?"  
  
"Nope," I deadpanned. "You can enjoy your sweet dreams after patrol's over."  
  
Jacob straightened to his full height and muttered something under his breath that sounded like "But I want to dream now."  
  
"This patrol is only half an hour," I reminded him. "Then the teachers take over and we can go to bed." Or go to dorm for snacks and party, I reminded myself. I loved Saturdays.   
  
We exited through the portrait hole and went down the stairs. "So," I said casually, "what were you dreaming about?"  
  
"Umm..." he said slowly, "nothing." He sounded really evasive. Jacob, I'm onto you.   
  
"Nothing?" I replied suspiciously. "You were dreaming about nothing and that is what you want to return to when we get back to the common room?"  
  
He coughed awkardly and I decided to let it drop. I didn't exactly want to embarrass him too much, even if he was one of the most transparent guys I'd ever met. The only person I knew who was as bad as Jacob at hiding things was Louis, who at least was aware that he couldn't lie for crap.  
  
We stood in silence and waited for the next staircase to move into the correct position. It would rather suck if we had just kept walking without looking to see if it was safe. Falling however many metres it was to the floor of the dungeon, which was a long way down, didn't exactly seem like an attractive option. Finally, it clanged against the rail and we walked down to the portrait hole that led to the Transfiguration courtyard. Yep. Tonight we got to patrol in places where nobody ever goes when they sneak out at night. Personally, I thought a more useful way to catch people out of bed would be to go camp out in front of the kitchens, but we had a patrol schedule to stick to.  
  
Jacob and I walked in silence through the corridors. I thought it was rather peaceful. There were no annoying first-years, no screaming and shouting or running through the halls, just the sound of our footsteps as we strolled through the empty hall.   
  
So, naturally, Peeves decided to show up.   
  
"Ooh, look what we have here!" he exclaimed in his nasally voice as he drifted through the wall. "Students out of bed! I'm sure Filch would love to know that!"  
  
"Peeves, we're prefects," I said coldly. "We're supposed to be out of bed." I slipped my hand into my robe pocket and gripped the handle of my wand. I'd used a few spells against Peeves before, mostly harmless stuff that he hopefully didn't remember. "Do I have to go get the Bloody Baron?" I added for good measure.   
  
"No," Peeves said, disappearing. I sighed in relief.   
  
"Who was that?" Jacob asked from beside me. He sounded really confused. I turned to look at him.  
  
"You've never seen Peeves?" I asked in disbelief. "Never?" He shook his head. "Wow," I added for good measure. Lucky. I've been dealing with that stupid poltergeist for way too long.  
  
We continued walking, again in silence. Finally, Jacob broke it just as it was starting to get awkward.   
  
"So," he said, "We're pretty good friends, right?"   
  
"Yes," I replied cautiously, wondering where exactly he was going with this. Hopefully towards the 'let's be more than friends' angle.  
  
"Well," he continued slowly, "I was wondering..."  
  
If you would like to be my girlfriend, since I have a crush on you and I hope it's reciprocated?  
  
"...If we could be more open with each other," Jacob finished.  
  
Of course not. Where is your Gryffindor courage? I knew I was being a bit hypocritical by thinking that, since I hadn't been able to come right out and say to him 'I like you' any more than I can answer those stupid riddles to get into Ravenclaw tower.   
  
"Sure," I said, hoping that the disappointment stayed out of my voice. "So, who do you like?" I added, making it seem like it was an afterthought, or a randomly thought up question. It was not. You know, sometimes I swear I could've been in Slytherin.  
  
Just as I knew he would, he coughed rather clumsily and said, "A girl," while sounding a bit embarrassed.   
  
Jacob Walker, you are so adorably awkward.  
  
"Come on," I laughed, "you have to tell me more than that! A girl could mean pretty much anyone in the entire school! Can you at least tell me what house she's in?"  
  
"Gryffindor," Jacob conceded reluctantly. That narrows it down a bit. Then he added, "So, Lily! Why don't you tell me who you like?"  
  
You.   
  
But I couldn't build up the nerve to tell him that, so I smiled at him and said, "A guy. In Gryffindor, to answer the question that I know you're going to ask."   
  
We finished our circle and headed back to the Great Staircase. "You know," I said, "You could make this a whole lot easier on yourself and just tell me who you like." I looked at him, flicked my eyebrows up, and added, "I'd tell you who I like."  
  
Jacob smiled back and shook his head. "Nope," he replied, "you're going to have to guess."  
  
Okay, then. My guess is me. Although I didn't think I could actually say that, as that would sound a bit needy and desperate. I wasn't needy and desperate, just... hopeful.   
  
"Vaillance," I said to the Fat Lady as we arrived back in the Common Room. I hated that damn password. Couldn't she just change it?  
  
"See you tomorrow," I told Jacob quietly as we went up our separate staircases. Wouldn't want to wake up the first years who are actually going to bed like they're supposed to.  
  
Just like they had said, they were still up and waiting for me.   
  
"I need advice," Maggie Morgan said as I walked in. "About boys."  
  
Maggie Morgan was, of the other four girls in my dorm, the one that I felt I knew the least. She was a muggle-born witch and, while she was very kind, I got the feeling that she missed the Muggle world terribly.   
  
"Boys?" I said blankly, "what specifically about boys? I don't know much about boys. I'm not a boy."  
  
Maggie laughed. "Boys that are special," she clarified, reaching for a Chocolate Frog from a bag beside her. "Crush-worthy boys."  
  
"You need advice about a boy?" I asked.   
  
"Yes."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Corvus Malfoy," she admitted.   
  
"Corvus Malfoy?" Jennifer asked. "He's a fourth-year Slytherin."  
  
"Yeah, but..." Maggie trailed off. "I've had a crush on him since last year. We met in Hogsmeade last year, ended up talking for half an hour or so in Honeydukes, and I've liked him ever since."  
  
"And you want him to notice you?" I asked. Not that I knew much about attracting boys (if I had attracted Jacob, I wasn't sure if I had done anything specifically that had managed it), but I wanted to help her.   
  
"Yes," she said. "I haven't talked to him since then, but I still like him and..." She paused for a moment, and then continued talking. "The fact that he's a fourth year means that we don't have any classses together, so I can't talk to him then."  
  
"Maybe you could go to the library when you know he's going to be there and see if you can talk to him?" I suggested. "He's not on the Quidditch team, so it's not like you could talk to him about that."  
  
"Even if I liked Quidditch," Maggie muttered, "which I don't." Then she smiled. "I've seen him in the library a lot. I guess I'll just work up the nerve and speak to him. Thanks, Lily!"  
  
I smiled back. "No problem. Hey," I added, almost as an afterthought, "can I get your advice with the same problem?"  
  
"Sure!" Maggie told me enthusiastically. "Who are they?"  
  
I smiled. "I'll let you try and figure it out," I said, "and if you haven't by the time I get back from the kitchens then I'll just tell you who they are."  
  
Maggie had tried to find out who I had liked before, and I had gently rebuffed her. This time, though, I felt like I wanted her to know, wanted to tell her who I liked. I didn't know why, as I hadn't told her about any of my previous crushes, and when I had started dating Joseph Hutton last year she had been completely surprised. ("You have a boyfriend? Since when? Wait - you actually like him?") Personally, I thought that my feelings for Jacob were a lot stronger than any feelings I had had for other boys. I guess it had progressed from simple physical attraction to, I don't know, emotional attraction. Whatever it's called when you like someone for their personality and you also think they're hot. (Good luck? A bonus? No idea.)  
  
I made it down to the kitchens, tickled the pear to get in (I still don't know why that specific painting and that specific action are needed to get in, as well as what the person who discovered it was doing), made polite conversation with the house elves there, heaped a pile of rolls on a platter, buttered them, and walked back to the common room. The four of them were ready when I got back.  
  
"Okay, Lily," Maggie said as I slowly placed the platter on the floor, "this took a while. You're hard to read, and you don't really squeal about guys a lot. So these are more general shots in the dark than anything."   
  
"Who did you guess?" I said, settling down onto my stomach.   
  
She looked a piece of parchment in her hands. "I made a list for you. Lorcan Scamander, David Eastern, Joseph Hutton, Stoddard Lestrange, and Jacob Walker."  
  
Well.   
  
"Umm... he's in there, and that's all I'm going to say," I said cautiously. Even if I secretly wanted her to know I wasn't going to come out and say "It's Jacob Walker, everyone!"  
  
"All right, let me try and narrow it down," Maggie said. She scrutinized the names carefully and decided, "It's not Stoddard - he's got a girlfriend, and besides they don't really talk to each other. It's probably not Joseph either - I don't think many people get a crush on their ex-boyfriend after they break up. David's an ass - it's definitely not him," she announced lightly. "He's a well-meaning ass, but he's an ass nonetheless. So that leaves Lorcan and Jacob," Maggie finished.   
  
"Lorcan's like family," I said without thinking.  
  
"Oooh - so it's Jacob!" Maggie said. "Lily, you always end up falling for the nice guys."  
  
"What's wrong with that?" I replied, a bit confused. "There's nothing wrong with falling for the nice guys."  
  
"He's cute, too," Amanda said in a rather offhand manner from where she was sitting on her bed.   
  
"You know who he sort of looks like?" Maggie said.  
  
"Who?" I asked, yawning.  
  
"Augustus Waters."  
  
"Uh... who's that?" we chorused.  
  
"Oh, he's a character from a book I read a few years ago."  
  
I grabbed a roll from the platter, ate it, and stood up. "I'm gonna go to bed now. See you guys in the morning."


	15. A Sudden Shock (Jacob)

"Come on," Lily said softly, pulling on my hand, "we can talk in here." Still holding my hand, she walked through a door and into what was apparently a kitchen. I followed willingly, my eyes focused solely on her and not on anything around me.  
  
"You know," I told her quietly, "I wasn't really planning on doing any talking." Lily was still holding my hand and I brought it closer to me, which had the totally intended side effect of bringing her closer until we were standing almost chest-to-chest. (I suppose it should have been chest to face, since I was taller than she was.)  
  
She took a deep breath before muttering almost inaudibly, "I wasn't going to spend a lot of time talking either." She dropped her hand down to her side and I felt, amidst the rush I was currently experiencing at being as close to her as I was, a bit disappointed.  
  
But, I told myself, I had been waiting for this moment for months. I couldn't chicken out now. I had played this scene over and over in my head millions of times, imagining how it would go - perfectly, of course. I would say the speech I had been planning, about how we had become really close friends since meeting each other in September, and how I liked her as more than a friend. Then she would reply and tell me how she had harboured those same feelings for me and had simply been waiting for me to make a move.  
  
Of course, now that I was actually in a position to carry out my fantasy, all my planning was falling by the wayside. Not that I had prepared a speech or anything - that would be silly - but my mouth suddenly went dry and I could feel my hands become clammy. This really was not what I wanted.  
  
"So," I said, feeling very awkward, "I've been meaning to tell you this for a while now, but I haven't been able to." The look in her eyes changed, and I had a feeling she knew what I was about to say to her.  
  
And then I stopped. I don't know why I did, as I had already started confessing to her and it was easier to keep going. But I can't go back now.  
  
"I have a feeling," Lily murmered, "that I know where you're going with this." She moved in closer and added, a twinkle in her eye, "and I think you should keep going before everyone gets back."  
  
"But seriously," I said, looking down at her, "why would they leave the two of us all alone by ourselves? They should've known what might happen." We were so close that my chin was hovering just above my chest.  
  
"They didn't leave us all by ourselves," she reminded me. "Hugo's here as well."  
  
I laughed, holding the smile after. "It's only ten o'clock in the morning, Lily." I loved saying her name, for a reason I don't understand. "Hugo won't be up for at least another four hours. He sleeps like a dead log-"  
  
"Logs were never alive in the first place," Lily interrupted, smiling up at me, "therefore he can't sleep like a dead log."  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Fine. He sleeps like a log. Unless we dump a bucket of cold water on him or something, he isn't getting up any time soon." Which, I added to myself, was perfectly fine with me, as I didn't want Hugo interrupting anything that might take place between Lily and I.  
  
"So," I said, taking a deep breath, "where were we again?"  
  
"We were discussing whether or not logs are alive," Lily said with a smirk.  
  
"Before that," I replied, feigning exasperation.  
  
"Oh. We were about to talk about feelings that have never been revealed before," she replied, doing the eyebrow flick thing that I had done in class two or so months ago to try and get her attention. My heart leapt into my mouth and I shoved it back where it belonged as I didn't want to add not being able to breathe to the list of things I had to worry about.  
  
"Well," I said, trying to decide where to look, "I'm pretty sure you already know this." Seriously, where was I supposed to look? Her eyes? Her nose? Her mouth? There needs to be a book about this: _How to Tell a Witch You Like Her_. Nice and in-depth.  
  
"You already know this," I repeated, feeling a bit foolish, "but I-"  
  
"Just get on with it, won't you?"  
  
   
  
Surprised, I jerked my head around to see who was there and froze.  
  
"You know," Alexandra said, "I was originally just going to wait until you two were done with your horrible attempt at romance, but you were so inept at telling her stuff-" she was addressing me specifically - "that I was almost in pain, and had to jump in to save myself the misery."  
  
My wand was in my back pocket. On my left side, and I was right-handed. Not only was my right side facing her, but it would be an awkward twist to try and grab it. That's if you completely ignored the fact that hers was in her hand, casually pointed at the pair of us.  
  
Casually, I edged myself in front of Lily, with two purposes in mind. First, to try and protect her when worst came to worst (even though I knew that she most likely would have none of it) and to try and turn myself so I could draw my wand and try something. I didn't know what, but something.  
  
How did she even get past the wards? The house of the Head of the Auror Office isn't exactly lightly-defended. Dad had said that we were safe here. I guess he was wrong.  
  
I was now completely in front of Lily, and I quickly reached behind my back and grabbed my wand, whipping it out in front of me in a blur. Alexandra was faster than I was, however, and before I could open my mouth to say an incantation she had Disarmed me and sent my wand clattering along the floor as I watched hopelessly.  
  
She smiled cruelly. "I don't think so." She pointed her wand at me and said, "What now, I wonder?" A part of me knew that whatever she had planned wouldn't be good, and a knot twisted in my stomach.  
  
*  
  
That's when I woke up, sweaty and panicked. I wasn't in what I somehow knew had been Lily's house; I was at Hogwarts, staring at the curtains of my four-poster bed as I tried to calm down from what appeared to have been a very realistic nightmare.  
  
I certainly hoped it had simply been a nightmare. I had heard of a few cases where somebody would dream of something bad happening and then that thing would actually end up taking place. On my part, I was determined that Alexandra would never come anywhere Lily (or myself, for that matter). The Aurors would catch her, as was bound to happen, and she would go back to Azkaban and stay there forever. Besides, I don't think anyone would be able to break through the wards on the house of the Head of the Auror Office. Obviously, I myself didn't know personally how strong they were but it seemed a little stupid to leave somebody as important as Harry Potter unprotected.  
  
Still a bit sweaty, and slightly shaking as well, I rolled out of bed and got dressed. Thankfully, it was a Saturday, so I didn't have to go to class, where people would undoubtedly notice the fact that I was on edge.  
  
The common room was pretty much empty of people, except for Lily, who was lounging in a recliner by the fire with a book and a piece of parchment on her lap, apparently working on an essay. She looked up at the sound of me coming down the stairs and smiled as she saw me.  
  
"You know," she said matter-of-factly, "I think you're the first one other than Declan and I to come down, which is pretty sad, considering it's 2 o'clock in the afternoon."  
  
"It is?" I was very surprised, as I didn't think I had slept quite that long. Apparently I was wrong.  
  
"It is," Lily confirmed, pointing at the grandfather clock in the corner. Sure enough, she was right.  
  
"Jacob?" Lily sounded a little bit concerned, and I turned back to her quickly.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You look really nervous and pale for some reason. Are you okay?"  
  
Part of me wanted to be completely honest with her and tell her the full reason why I was tense and shaky. But another part of me whispered ' _You don't know if she likes you and telling her that you dreamed of the two of you almost kissing in her kitchen and being interrupted might not go over well_.' Guess which part won? Yeah.  
  
"Nightmare," I answered instead, "about Alexandra."  
  
"Oh," was all Lily said for a while. Then she added, "Do you want to tell me about it?"  
  
"Well," I said slowly, "we were at your house - don't even ask me how I know it was your house, because I'm not sure. We were at your house, in the kitchen, and she interrupted us." She leaned back and I added, "It's probably nothing to worry about. It just seemed so real." Briefly, I wondered if my words sounded as empty in her ears as they did in mine.  
  
"Okay," Lily replied, "first of all, she'd never be able to break the wards on my house. To do that, she'd need to have high support in the Ministry, and seeing as she publicly threatened my dad and the rest of my family - who are very important to the Ministry - I doubt anybody would be willing to help her. Second, my house has a Fidelius Charm placed on it, so somebody would have to give it up to her. Now," she conceded, "the Charm's been in place for over twenty years, so there are a lot of Secret-Keepers, but she'd only be able to see the house, not actually enter, as we have extra protective spells."  
  
That made me feel a bit better. "Lily," I asked slowly, "do you live in a house or a fortress? Because you've got all these wards, a Fidelius Charm, and extra protective spells going on there."  
  
She grinned. "A house. It's just a really well-protected house."  
  
I nodded. "She's probably going to get caught anyways." I turned towards the portrait hole to leave and called softly over my shoulder, "I'm going to go try and get some food from the kitchens. See you later."  
  
The walk to the kitchens was quiet, as there was pretty much no one around. It was now the beginning of December, and apparently the teachers were using Christmas break as an excuse to dump even more homework on us before we got off for two weeks. Because it wasn't like we had had enough to do before.  
  
At the kitchens, I grabbed a plate of sandwiches and walked to the Great Hall to eat them. Declan was sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by what might've been one of the biggest piles of books I'd ever seen.  
  
I slid in opposite him and set the plate down on the table lightly. He looked up slowly, and for the first time I noticed that he had shaows underneath his eyes, probably from lack of sleep and stress.  
  
"You look tired," I commented, taking a sandwich.  
  
Declan waved vaguely in the direction of the stack of books. "I've got to do all this for Monday," he said. "In addition, we've got Quidditch practice." He took a sandwich, ignoring the expression on my face. "Thank God I'm not a prefect."  
  
I swallowed the bit of the sandwich that had been in my mouth and protested, "What's wrong with being a prefect?"  
  
"Nothing," Declan said, "but around Christmas you get to put up all the decorations around the entire school. In addition to schoolwork and Quidditch."  
  
"Lovely," I deadpanned. He reached out to take another sandwich and I smacked his hand away. "Hey! This is my plate. Go get your own."  
  
"Why would I do that when your plate is right here?" Declan joked, putting his quill down. "To change the subject entirely, did you hear about the Ministry dance over the Christmas break?"  
  
"Ministry dance? There's a Ministry dance?"  
  
"Yes," Declan said.  
  
"That sounds like something out of a corny novel," I replied in disbelief. "You know, there's a dance, main character and love interest go together, then something bad happens and screws it all up."  
  
"It's actually happening." Declan shrugged and reached behind him for a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "Page B4."  
  
I flipped to the page and read from a little blurb down at the bottom. "The Department of Magical Games and Sports will be organizing a Ministry-wide dance taking place on December 31, 2024."   
  
"See?" Declan said. "You know who you're going to take?"  
  
"What do you mean who am I going to take?" I asked. "This just says that there's a Ministry-wide dance, and since I don't work for the Ministry I can't go."  
  
"I'm not 100% sure how that would work," Declan said, "but Lily's dad works for the Ministry. She might go."  
  
"My parents work for the Ministry as well," I replied, "but somehow I don't really see Lily as someone who would be really excited for a dance."  
  
"You're right," Declan acknowledged. "She's not. But I'm sure that if the right person were to go with her she would enjoy it."  
  
I began to realize what he was doing. "You're trying to get me to ask her to this dance, when I'm not even sure if I'll be allowed to go myself."  
  
"Yes. But hey, all you have to do is owl your parents asking for permission and tell them why you want to go. They should understand."  
  
"And if they say no?" I demanded.  
  
"Accept it and find some other way to dance with Lily?" he suggested.  
  
"First of all, why do I always end up being the one who has to ask her stuff?" I grumbled.  
  
"Status quo." Declan shrugged. "The general expectation seems to be that the guy asks, not the girl."  
  
"That's stupid."  
  
"I know it is, but there probably isn't anything you can do about it. I don't think Lily's going to be asking you to the dance anytime soon."  
  
"Unfortunately." I dropped my hands onto the table and stared at Declan, exasperated. "I don't even know if she likes me."  
  
"You're right, you don't," Declan said, "but if you don't ask you'll never know. Jacob, the worst thing she could do is say no."  
  
"Easy for you to say. You've got a boyfriend!" I pointed out.  
  
"You're right," he acknowledged, "but to get said boyfriend I had to ask him out. And you know what? He said yes. So it's not impossible. Besides, Jacob, you two spend so much time together that she would probably agree to go with you, even if it's just as a friend."  
  
And so it happened that I spent the next week or so trying to find the courage to ask Lily whether or not she'd be interested in going to the dance. I didn't know if she wasn't aware of it, or if she was just choosing to avoid the topic, but it never came up in conversation with her. Since it was the first week of December, all the prefects had had our regular breaks (lunch, after dinner, free periods) stolen from us so we could decorate the castle for Christmas, just like Declan had said. This meant, for the most part, that Lily and I ended up spending even more time with each other than before (which I didn't have a problem with at all), and I could spend even more time worrying about when I could ask her.  
  
Eventually, that Friday - five days after Declan had initially raised the topic - I managed to do it. We were sitting in the common room after dinner, supposedly doing homework; actually, we were just screwing around. Lily had a copy of that morning's _Daily Prophet_ on top of her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_.  
  
She sighed and leaned back, dropping her quill onto the roll of parchment she was using. "Man, pretending to be working is hard."  
  
"It is," I said, leaning back as well. We hadn't been working at all for half an hour or so. Instead, we had been bantering back and forth about pretty much everything: classes, Quidditch, the fact that we should've been actually focusing on doing our work instead of bantering.  
  
"And in three weeks time," Lily said, picking up the copy of the _Prophet_ , "I'll have to pretend to dance." She sounded a bit disgusted.  
  
"What's wrong with dancing?" I asked, feeling a bit nervous and relieved now that the topic had finally come up.  
  
"Well, there's nothing wrong with dancing, to be honest, I just don't like doing it." She opened the _Prophet_ and handed it to me. "Have you seen this yet?" she asked, pointing at the ad about the Ministry dance that Declan had shown me the previous Sunday.  
  
"Yes. Declan showed it to me."  
  
"A Ministry dance." Lily wasn't impressed at all. "I'm going to have to go, as children of senior Ministry employees are expected to attend Ministry social crap _once they reach a respectable age_. Apparently thirteen is that age. Just because of that, I get to go get dressed up and wear high heels and try and dance. Ugh."  
  
"Dances aren't that bad," I started, and then stopped. "Oh, wait. Ties. Never mind." Then I took a deep breath, braced myself, and added, "You know, if the two of us both hate dances and we're both going to end up being forced to go, we should go together." I hadn't thought that I would end up having to go; rather, I had envisioned having to tell my parents why I wanted to go to a _dance_ when I had hated dancing for the past 10 years of my life.  
  
"You know," Lily said slowly, "I thought that I was going to hate this dance and spend it standing in the corner avoiding everybody. I guess I wrong." She turned to look at me, a huge smile spreading across her face. "I would love to go with you to the dance."  
  
An identical huge smile spread over my face. "Maybe we could actually dance at this dance?"  
  
Lily grinned. "I can't dance, but we can certainly try. And I'll probably have to wear heels, so by try I mean fall over."  
  
"You know, I'm sure there's a dance that involves landing flat on your back," I joked, then stopped to stare at the books in front of us. "We should probably actually start doing this work."  
  
"You're right." Lily sounded very reluctant to return to homework. We did so anyways, moving a little closer to each other on the couch, not even noticing when the portrait hole opened to admit people. One of those people was Professor Longbottom, apparently, because he came over to talk to us.  
  
"Lily, Jacob?" he asked, causing us both to jump, "are you busy?"  
  
Lily recovered first. "No, Professor. We were just doing homework."  
  
And talking about dancing together, but I'm pretty sure that was beside the point.  
  
"I think you both need to come with me," he said, looking pretty serious.  
  
"What is it, Professor?" I asked, trying to think of anything I'd done wrong. I was bringing up nothing but blanks.  
  
"It's something that could be better explained by others," he said, motioning for us to follow him. We did, confused, and he led us to Professor McGonagall's office. I was still wondering who these other people were going to be when we walked in.  
  
"Mum? Dad?" I could hear Lily say, at the same time that I said, "Dad? What's going on?"  
  
My dad ignored me and gestured to Lily's parents, who were standing beside him, along with Albus.  
  
"This isn't good news, I'm afraid," Harry (Mr. Potter? What was I supposed to call him?) said. "It's about James."  
  
"What happened?" Lily said, sounding very wary.  
  
"He was attacked just outside of his house late last night. He was nearly killed and he's in St Mungo's now."  
  
"The main reason I'm here," Dad said, "is because the Healers found a note on his body this morning." He held a folded piece of paper up severely. "This wasn't some random attack. This was a message from Alexandra."


	16. There at St. Mungo's (Lily)

Mum and Dad made us wait until the next day to visit James. They said that St Mungo's had a visitation policy that prohibited visitors after 8 at night (or something along those lines), and we had to stay put and worry.  
  
The little bit of information they had been able to give us hadn't helped, either; rather, it had made my mood worse. James had been found late last night (as we already knew), by one of his friends, who had been going to visit him. That friend had immediately brought him in to St Mungo's and alerted Dad and Mum. James hadn't woken up yet and the Healers were going to tell us how bad everything was when we went.  
  
Early Saturday morning, I said goodbye to Jacob and Hugo, since both of them had gotten up early: Hugo because he wanted me to let him know how James was doing, Jacob just wanted to talk before I left. The chat with Jacob was a bit worrisome, actually, as he told me that he had a feeling that something bad was going to happen at St Mungo's and wanted me to be careful. I told him that nothing was going to go wrong, it was going to be a normal visit, James would be fine, and I would see him either that night or Sunday, as I wasn't sure if we were going to go home after or come back here.  
  
With that in mind, Albus and I met outside Professor McGonagall's office and went up together. We joined my parents there and Flooed to St. Mungo's.  
  
I had never been to St. Mungo's, as none of us had ever been injured enough to require a visit here. Before this, that is. As we passed through the lobby towards the receptionist I sighed quietly and reminded myself that Alexandra would be caught and sent back to Azkaban where she belonged, and she would be caught by experienced Aurors (or Hit Wizards, depending). I wasn't about to pull a Dad and try and fight fully-grown wizards (much as I wanted to take on Alexandra myself). Yes, I'm fully aware that he had no other choice.  
  
We stepped up to the desk.  
  
"James Potter," my mum said to the receptionist. I had the feeling that she was at least as mad as I was.  
  
"Fourth floor," the receptionist responded. "Ward 439."  
  
When we arrived there the ward seemed still and lifeless. It was a bit fitting, I supposed, considering that this ward was for those who had suffered severe spell damage that would cause them to be hospitalized for a while, but were expected to recover (or - no, I did _not_ want to think about that).  
  
James was in the only occupied bed, by the window that didn't offered a fake view of outside. (It wasn't pouring rain five minutes ago when we walked in.) He looked small, pale, and broken in the bed. It was a far cry from the laughing, energetic brother I'd known over the summer and at holidays.  
  
The Healer, a plump, motherly woman with curly black hair, walked over to greet us. The way she held herself made it seem like she could handle anything, and she looked confident without being too confident. I liked her immediately.  
  
"Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter," she said, greeting my parents, and then nodded to Albus and I.  
  
"How-" Albus's voice was hoarse. "How is he?"  
  
"He's doing okay," the Healer said. "I'm Cecilia Merryweather, by the way. Now, back to James. When he was attacked, his attacker used non-lethal spells only, and from the way they were used I think that this was deliberate."  
  
"They weren't trying to kill him," Dad stated flatly.  
  
"They were not. However, he still almost died, as he was attacked quite ferociously and bled quite extensively."  
  
"What kind of spells?" Mum asked softly.  
  
"The Severing Charm, many times. I think the Blasting Curse might have been used, but I can't tell for sure. Either way, his right arm is mangled. There is one initial injury there, around his right hand and his right wrist that I found particularly interesting. When I looked at it, it was the oldest wound and-"  
  
"So it was caused first?" Albus interrupted.  
  
"Yes. It was first. It was also caused with Dark Magic, which means that I won't be able to fully heal it. Several ligaments and tendons were severed by this dark magic, and they won't be fully reparable, unfortunately."  
  
"What does this mean for James?" Mum asked.  
  
"While I will be able to repair some of the damage that was done, he won't have full use of his right arm. Depending on how well it heals it might be almost normal or it could be almost useless. We don't know yet. Now, about the rest of him." She produced a roll of parchment from her pocket and glanced at it briefly before placing it back where it had come from. "There are - or were, I should say - magically induced slashes all along his upper body. I've healed most of them, only leaving a few ones that we need to keep an eye on."  
  
"Why do we need to keep an eye on them?" Dad asked. "What's different about those cuts?"  
  
"Some of them are very close to internal organs, and if they are healed improperly it could end up being very damaging to him in the long run. Also, there is one slash that cut into his lungs. It's the one I'm most worried about."  
  
"So this slash actually damaged his lungs?" I asked quietly.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes, it did," she replied. "I've healed the damage that the slash itself caused to his lung, but there's still going to be scarring, and that will affect him for the rest of his life."  
  
"How?" Mum asked.  
  
"He won't be able to be very physically active, for example. Running will probably tire him out faster and he'll experience shortness of breath. I'm not an expert on that branch of Healing, so you can't take my word for it, but he might not be able to play Quidditch or fly a broom again."  
  
Oh no.  
  
I think that of all the news to have to break to James when he woke up, not being able to play Quidditch would be by far the worst blow. He loved the sport, having played it all through Hogwarts (although he had only made the Gryffindor house team in his fourth year), and he had been delighted to find work in the Department of Magical Games and Sports after graduation. During the summer, I think he had said something about applying for a job as a Quidditch referee, but I wasn't sure. Even if he had, this might kill his chances of doing that. He probably wasn't going to take this very well.  
  
"I'll just get out of your way now and let you visit him, then," Healer Merryweather said briskly. She moved out of the room and into what I think must have been an office of some sort.  
  
The four of us moved up to the bed, and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I didn't want to be here, amid the depressing white sameness of the entire ward. I didn't want to see James like this, unconscious on a hospital bed. I wanted to see my older brother, the energetic, goofy twit I'd always known.  
  
I think it was at that moment that I realized I needed to leave this ward and go somewhere else.  
  
"Mum," I said quietly, "I need to go somewhere else. Do you have some money you could give me?"  
  
"Of course," she told me, reaching into her robes and pulling out a handful of Galleons. I took them gratefully and left quickly.  
  
It took me a while to find the cafeteria, especially since I didn't have any idea where I was going. I finally managed to get there, however, aided by many Healers and other hospital staff who were kind enough to point me in the right direction. By the time I finally got there, I was feeling down because of James, I was a bit pissed off because it had taken me half an hour to find the cafeteria, and I was hungry.  
  
To top it off, the cafeteria was packed full of people. I don't know why, as it wasn't the right time of year for that. According to my aunt Audrey, who worked here in some sort of administrative role, the first few days of Christmas break were filled with people who hurt themselves, as well as the first week or two of summer.  
  
Eventually I made it to the front of the line and bought myself a Cauldron Cake and a goblet of pumpkin juice. There was still one table that was unoccupied, in the corner, and I sat down at it.  
  
I think that might've been when I realized that I didn't have anything to do. I hadn't brought anything with me other than money and my wand, and I wanted a break longer than the time it would take for me to eat my Cauldron Cake and drink the pumpkin juice. So I got up (quickly, so I wouldn't have to worry about losing my spot), walked to the other end of the cafeteria, and bought a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. I was only out of my seat for about a minute or so, but it was still long enough for me to get the nasty feeling that I was being watched. I tried to figure out who, if anybody, was watching me as I made my way back to my table. Finally, after I sat down, I realized who it was.  
  
There was a woman staring at me from where she sat, halfway to the door. When I swept my eyes around trying to figure out who could be watching me our eyes met. She looked a little bit familiar. I didn't know where I thought I knew her, or how, but I thought I did. So I looked closely at her, trying not to make it obvious that I was staring, and tried to figure out. That's when I realized.  
  
I hadn't seen her before, but to me she looked very similar to someone I knew very well.  
  
I thought she looked like Jacob.  
  
Oh fuck.  
  
Wait, I told myself, trying to calm down, that's not a guarantee that it's her. I'm sure Jacob had other aunts who, because they were related to him, looked like him. Besides, Alexandra was adopted - I knew that from the letter his parents had sent him about her when she had first escaped.  
  
While I was debating this with myself, she stood up from the table she was sitting at and walked over to me. I don't know why, but something about the way she walked seemed threatening to me. It was sort of like she had an aura of power and exuded confidence. That sounded like Divination to me, which Aunt Hermione said was for the most part a load of rubbish.  
  
Then she sat down opposite me and I forgot all about Aunt Hermione's opinion on Divination. I felt a bit threatened by her, to be honest, and I think it was then that I realized that this was not a belligerent relative of Jacob's. This was Alexandra herself.  
  
"Lily Potter," she said coldly, and I reached into the pocket of my robes, searching quickly for the handle of my wand. I hoped we wouldn't end up casting spells against each other, as she was a fully grown witch and I hadn't sat my O.W.L.s yet, but I wanted to have it ready to use just in case.  
  
"Yes," I replied, just as coldly. "What do you want?"  
  
The tiniest hint of a smile played across her features, which were similar to Jacob's, yet different in so many ways. Where Jacob's face was soft and caring hers was harsh, cold, and unforgiving.  
  
"I see you know who I am already," she said coldly. "Otherwise you would have used a bit more, ah, _courtesy_."  
  
"You attacked my brother and nearly killed him," I snarled angrily. "There's no need to be courteous here." My grip on my wand handle tightened and I wanted desperately to hex her.  
  
"Oh, I didn't really attack your brother," she said easily, "he just got in the way of my spells. You know," she added, leaning forward, "I have to admit, he didn't offer any resistance at all once I'd injured his wand hand."  
  
"You bitch," I seethed.  
  
"I know," she said, "you're going to kill me. Well, trust me, people have tried before, and they've failed. Witches and wizards who are stronger than you, fully mature, and are better at hiding their wand under a table."   
  
I stood up, surprised, my wand now at my side. "Goodbye, Alexandra," I said coldly. "The next time I see you again I'm sure you're behind the bars of a prison cell."  
  
She laughed coldly. "We'll see about that, Lily Potter. In case you haven't realized, nobody's even noticed me yet. I've been here for about two hours, sitting in this cafeteria, just waiting."  
  
I didn't say anything to her; I just got up and left, taking my half-finished food with me. Throwing it in the trash, I left and rushed towards the foyer. As I turned around a corner I could see her following me. This was not good.  
  
"We've got a problem," I said to the first Security Wizard I saw.  
  
"Ma'am, what do you mean a problem?" he asked, exactly as Alexandra came around the corner herself.  
  
"That problem," I said warily, jerking my head at Alexandra. Her wand was in her right hand and just about ready for her to use.  
  
The Security Wizard turned towards her suddenly and tried to draw his wand. That was a bad idea, as Alexandra already had hers out. I didn't recognize the spell she sent flying towards us, but I knew enough to throw myself out of the way. All I could hear as I hit the ground painfully and rolled was a 'whush' sound and then a gigantic boom. Pieces of something hard came falling down and hit me. I did my best to ignore that and just focused on protecting my head and my wand.  
  
Eventually, it stopped raining bricks or whatever and I slowly raised my head out of my hands to gaze, shocked, at the remains of the foyer. It appeared to have been utterly destroyed. The door that we had come through just over an hour before had been turned into a gigantic gaping hole, and there were bodies all over the place. Alexandra was nowhere to be seen. I went to stand up and a searing pain shot through my leg, so I simply stared around me, hoping Alexandra didn't come back, as I was feeling pretty dazed.  
  
Dad was the first one to show up.  
  
"Lily!" he said, rushing into the foyer. He stopped for a few seconds to turn around and stare at the wreckage. "What..."  
  
"Alexandra," I said simply. I didn't really have to explain any more than that. Then I focused back on the important matters. "Is James..."  
  
"He's fine," he said simply. "She didn't come anywhere near us." Dad looked around some more. "I don't even..." He trailed off as Healers came hurrying in.  
  
"What now?" I asked.  
  
"Did you see this happen?" Dad replied.  
  
"Sort of," I told him.  
  
"You'll have to tell the Aurors - when they get here, which should be any time now - what you saw, and then we can either go home or go back to Hogwarts."  
  
Home was sweet. But Jacob was at Hogwarts.  
  
"Home first, then Hogwarts," I decided.  
  
When the Aurors arrived I gave them my statement and then Dad and I, rejoined by Mum and Albus, left for home. We were all surprised and tired, especially me. I couldn't get out of my head the words Jacob had said to me when I had left in the morning. _I feel like something bad is going to happen, but I can't explain it. Be careful, please._ How had he known?  
  
Speaking of Jacob, I wanted to tell Mum and Dad about the Ministry dance, even though I was sure Dad already knew about it, and let them know that I had a date. It didn't seem like the right time, though, especially not after what had just happened at St Mungo's. They did need to know, because I didn't have any dress robes.  
  
We decided to stay and eat dinner at home and Floo back after, so after dinner when Mum and I were washing the dishes I used the opportunity to tell her.  
  
"Mum," I said casually, scraping leftovers into the garbage, "have you heard about the Ministry dance on New Year's Eve?"  
  
She turned to look at me and laughed. "Lily, you've got about as much tact as your uncle Ron. Of course I've heard about this dance. What is it you want to know about it?"  
  
"Are we going?" I asked. I was pretty sure that we were, but I wanted to double-check. Jacob probably was, as both of his parents worked at the Ministry.  
  
"Yes, I think we are," she said. "I'd have to ask your father, though, as I'm not 100% sure."  
  
"Well," I admitted, "there's a guy at Hogwarts that asked me to the dance and I said yes. I wanted to make sure that we were actually going."  
  
"Who's the guy?" Mum asked. "Would I know their parents?"  
  
"I don't know, but Dad probably would." When she didn't say anything I added, "Jacob Walker - his dad's an Auror."  
  
"I think James might have mentioned his boss at one point," Mum mused. "I think her last name was Walker. Although I don't know if he'll be working for the Department of Magical Games and Sports after-" She trailed off and we stood there awkwardly, remembering the Healer's words in St Mungo's earlier today.  
  
To break the silence, I said, "At some point we should probably go shopping for dress robes. I don't think I have any that I like."  
  
"Okay," she answered. We finished the dishes and walked into the living room.  
  
"As soon as Albus finishes showering we'll go back to Hogwarts," Mum announced to Dad, who was sitting in an armchair reading the _Evening Prophet_.  
  
"Okay," he said. A description of the St Mungo's attack was on the front page. I could see the headline from where I stood in the kitchen door: "St Mungo's Attacked; 150 Dead". It made me even angrier at Alexandra, but this anger wasn't fiery, passionate hate. It was cold, righteous fury, and I knew that if I saw Alexandra again I wouldn't hesitate.


	17. A Useless Feeling (Jacob)

I wasn't sure how I knew that something was going to happen at St Mungo's. I just did; there was a feeling in my gut that wouldn't go away. It grew and grew very quickly, even after I'd told Lily about it and asked her to be careful. Repeating to myself over and over that there wasn't anything I could do didn't help at all.

I waited. All day. It might not have been so bad, except that it was a Saturday and the only thing I had to distract me was a small bit of homework. Once I'd finished that there wasn't a heck of a lot to do. I persuaded Hugo to play me in chess and lost (several times).

So when Professor Longbottom came into Gryffindor tower to tell us that it would be after dinner before they would be getting back I wasn't all that happy. On the bright side, he hadn't given us any extremely bad news, but I still hadn't heard anything specific. I consoled myself with the thought that at least nobody had died.

Then we had supper and I saw the front page of the Evening Prophet. Declan had to pound me on the back because my pumpkin juice ended up going down the wrong way and I choked.  

I stared at the page in shock. St Mungo's Attacked; 150 Dead. And, according to the accompanying article, it was all Alexandra's doing. I wasn't sure how good St Mungo's security was, but apparently it wasn't good enough.  

Professor Longbottom stopped by briefly in order to tell Hugo and I to meet in Professor McGonagall's office after dinner. I felt like asking him if he had known about this massacre (because that's what it was) but thought better of it.  

After dinner was over (which was a relative term, considering I hadn't had any appetite at all and didn't feel like eating anything) we went to Professor McGonagall's office, just like we had been asked. We'd been there for about five or so minutes when Lily, Albus, and Harry and Ginny Potter emerged one by one from the fireplace, each brushing soot off their robes before coming to stand in front of McGonagall's desk, which Professor Longbottom was leaning against.

The first thing I noticed was that Lily looked angry. Like, really, really angry. I knew from the article that she had had something to do with Alexandra's attack on St Mungo's earlier today, or been involved, but I didn't exactly know how.  

"Did you see the article in the Evening Prophet?" Harry Potter asked. When Hugo and I nodded our heads yes he continued, "That happened while we were there." That, of course, we already knew, given that we had seen the article in the Evening Prophet.  

Lily and Albus walked past both Professor McGonagall and Professor Longbottom to join Hugo and I. Albus stood beside Hugo and Lily parked herself in front of me, while Harry and Ginny started talking, voices hushed, to Professors Longbottom and McGonagall.  

"I guess we'll just... leave, then?" Hugo questioned. Nobody said anything, so we just left. Albus said goodbye to us about a third of the way to the common room, as he had to go to Ravenclaw tower, so it was just Hugo, Lily, and myself. I really wanted to talk to Lily alone and ask her about what had happened, but not when Hugo was around.

"I think," Lily announced, when we had reached the common room, "I'm going to go to the prefect's bathroom and have a bath."  

"Good night, then," Hugo said ruefully, heading for the staircase to our dorm. I was guessing that, just like me, he wanted to know exactly what had happened at St Mungo's.  

I'd go with her, but...  

"Jacob, are you coming?" Lily asked me.  

"Well, I would, but I'm not sure if..." I trailed off and stood there helplessly while Lily stared at me.  

"Jacob, it's the prefect's bathroom," she said. "Considering that there's just one bathroom for both girl and guy prefects, we've all worked around that." She headed for the stairs, calling over her shoulder, "Just bring swim trunks. I know it sounds stupid, but the tubs are pretty much swimming pool-sized."  

So that's how Lily and I ended up sitting in the prefect's bathroom, in a gigantic tub, having a bath together. That probably sounds extremely ridiculous but it didn't feel like that, as currently both of us were pretty much simply sitting there with our eyes closed, leaning back against the marble.  

I still wanted to ask her about St Mungo's though, if she wanted to talk to me about it.  

"Lily," I prompted quietly, causing her to open her eyes and stare at me, "what exactly happened today? The Prophet didn't exactly go into a lot of detail."  

"Well," she said slowly, "we got to St Mungo's and saw James." She sighed. "I needed to leave - I don't know why, I just had to..."

I nodded. "I went to the cafeteria and got myself a snack. Then I was joined by Alexandra."

Her voice became cold and angry and I sat up straighter. I hadn't known about this.  

"She - I don't know how to describe it - we had a very, um, aggressive chat."  

If Alexandra had threatened Lily I was going to kill her.  

"She went into detail about what had happened when she had attacked James," she said angrily, her jaw set, not looking at me. "And James... He still hasn't woken up. The Healers say that he probably won't be the same or be able to do a lot of the stuff he was able to before." Lily looked at me, and her voice was flat as she continued. "Then I got up and left her, as I wanted to let security know so they could arrest her and send her back to Azkaban where she belongs. God knows why she wasn't recognized in the cafeteria. Anyways, she followed me into the foyer and blew it up. By the time anybody came down, she was gone."  

"Why would she even blow up the foyer?" Lily asked me. "It didn't achieve anything - aside from the deaths of 150 innocent people - but I suppose massacring the innocent is something every Dark wizard likes to do in their spare time."  

"Another thing," I added, "is that it might have been counterproductive for her to have killed that many people. Aside from the fact that the Ministry now needs to catch her in order to not look stupid, there are 150 grieving families who would probably do what we both want to do and kill her. If they had the chance, that is."  

"Also, she blew up St Mungo's. Nobody blows up St Mungo's. Hospitals are traditionally off-limits." Lily sounded exhausted, and she leaned her head back and groaned. "If it's raining bricks, stay inside."

"You were there when she blew up the foyer?"  

"Yes," Lily said, not even bothering to move. "She chased me there."

"She-" Then I remembered what she had told me. "Oh. Right."

"What happened after that?" I asked.  

"The Aurors showed up, I told them what I had seen, and then we went home for dinner and a break." She heaved herself out of the water and onto the tile floor. "I asked my parents about the dance, by the way." 

"And?" I prompted her.  

"My mum said that she was pretty sure that we were going. She wanted to ask my dad first to confirm, though." Lily grabbed a towel and began drying off. "I don't usually like dances - they're always at weddings, which I've been to a lot of - but I actually want to go to this one." She tied her hair back into a ponytail.  

Was it because of me? I hoped so.  

"I'm going back to the common room now," she said, looking like she was in a much better mood than she had been when she had arrived. "I've still got that Transfiguration essay to do, and I need to practice that spell that Professor Flitwick showed us in Charms yesterday. See you later." She smiled at me and walked out the door. I watched her go sadly. Lily still seemed really angry from what had happened at St Mungo's today, or probably also just with Alexandra having attacked her brother in general. She hadn't specifically stated how badly wounded he was, but he can't have been in too great shape if she had had to leave the room and go elsewhere.  

I was also wondering about what would happen after this. The Ministry couldn't conceivably ignore someone like Alexandra blatantly attacking St Mungo's without losing face. Personally, I still couldn't quite believe she'd actually done something that aggressive. It would only make the Aurors want to catch her all that much more, and the Ministry would probably tighten security everwhere to prevent it from happening again.

Speaking of tightened security, I really hoped they didn't decide to cancel this dance, or party, that the Department of Magical Games and Sports was hosting. Since Lily had agreed to go with me I really wanted to actually go and, you know, dance. I didn't want to spend a lot of time getting excited over something that might end up getting cancelled because of Alexandra.  

While I was on the subject of Alexandra, I thought, getting out of the tub and drying myself off, I didn't really know when our next practical Defence meeting was. After what had happened today it was probably reasonable to assume that they would be becoming even more intense, but obviously if nobody knew when they were we couldn't practice.  

*  

I slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning nonstop, trying to rid myself of nightmares that just wouldn't stay away. I would dream of something that I loved doing, like talking to Lily, and then it would go horribly wrong. Either Alexandra (who seemed to come back a lot in nightmares) would burst in and cause havoc, or I would trip over my own tongue and mess up all words. Once (and this nightmare didn't last very long, thank goodness), Lily told me quite coldly that I was nothing to her and that she only pretended to like me. But nightmare Lily acted so differently from how Lily actually acts, and talked so differently, held herself so differently, that I knew right away that it wasn't real, and that it was a very fake dream. Knowing that it wasn't real made me quite a bit happier, as Lily completely rejecting me had been something I'd been worrying about, on a very minor scale, for a little bit.  

When I woke up I was still tired and bleary from lack of sleep but, since I was hungry, I got up anyways. There were a few people in the common room, mostly sixth- and seventh-years who were sitting at tables doing homework. I passed them and walked to the Great Hall to get some breakfast.  

Professor Flitwick greeted me at the door. "Mr. Walker?" he said, and I immediately wondered what I had done wrong.  

"Yes, Professor?" I asked, looking down at him.  

"Today we need to continue decorating the castle for Christmas. You know this already, but as a prefect you are expected to help."  

"Yes," I said. "When?"  

"Here, after breakfast is over." He turned and walked away and I sat down at the Gryffindor table, grabbing a slice of toast.  

"Hi, Jacob." I looked up to see who was talking to me and gave a polite smile.  

"Hello, Stephanie." Stephanie Abbott was in my year, which meant, I guess, that she roomed with Lily. I didn't particularly like her, but you have to be polite.  

"You're going with Lily to a dance, right?" she asked, cutting a breakfast sausage in half. 

"Yes," I said cautiously. "Who told you about that?"  

"Lily did," she said brightly. "And I've done some thinking, and I know what you two can call yourselves!"  

"What?" I said, taking a bite of my toast. I had no idea what she was talking about and, while I was completely confused, I was a little bit curious as well.  

"Lacob!"  

"What?" I repeated.  

"Lacob! It's your ship name," she persisted.  

"Ship name?" I asked, completely nonplussed. "What do we have a ship name for? Neither of us are boats."  

"No, no," she said. I felt like she could've tacked on 'silly' at the end and it would have fit perfectly. "Not boat ship. Relationship."  

"Lily and I aren't dating," I reminded her. Yet. Were we going to end up being two of those people who everyone wanted to date, and believed were dating, despite the fact that they weren't actually in a relationship with each other? (Of course, I would take 'you two look so cute together, in a relationship with each other, dating' any day.)

I finished my breakfast. "Nice talking to you, Stephanie," I said, getting up. "See you later." I could already see Professors Longbottom and Flitwick over in the corner discussing decorations, and I made my way over to them.  

"What can I do?" I asked, barging in on the conversation, only to discover that it wasn't in fact about Christmas decorations, as I had originally thought. It was about Alexandra. 

"Actually, Mr. Walker," Professor Longbottom said, glancing at me, "we were just talking about you."  

"You were?" That feeling I had had when Professor Flitwick told me about helping out - where I felt like I had done something wrong - was back. "About what, Professor?"  

"It was something Hugo said, actually," Professor Longbottom clarified. "He approached me and wanted to know if you - and here I mean all of you - could take a more, uh, active role against Alexandra."  

"By all of us you mean me, Hugo, Lily, Albus, Rose, and Scorpius, right?" I asked.  

"Yes," he said.  

"I agree with him," I said. "I don't want to just sit and do nothing while Alexandra runs around free."  

"Absolutely not," Professor Longbottom said firmly. "I know I'm not either of your parents, or either of Hugo's, but I know that we all have the same opinion here. None of you need to be actively participating in the search for Alexandra. She is, as you know, a fully mature witch, and an extremely talented one at that. None of you would be ready to take her on." He paused and then added, "I know that many people my age fought Voldemort. We had no other choice. You have a choice, and a competent government that will take care of everything."

"Still," I insisted, "I want to do something."  

"I understand that," he said, "but the answer is still no. I'm sure your father would agree with me on this, too."

I knew I was defeated here, so I gave up the argument and drew my wand to help decorate. Professor Longbottom was right - none of us would be able to stand and fight against Alexandra, even with these additional defence sessions we were doing, and so there was no point in taking a more active role in the search for her. Besides, we were at Hogwarts (for another two weeks, anyways, before the Christmas holidays started) and couldn't do anything here no matter what Professor Longbottom had said. I just wanted to be able to do something, that's all, and sitting at Hogwarts wasn't it, even though that was all that I would be able to do. I felt a little bit useless.


	18. Christmas Cheer Should Be Near (Lily)

Mum and Dad kept us updated on how James was doing. Over the course of the two weeks before we went on Christmas vacation he woke up, which relieved the Healers immensely, according to Dad. He said they had been beginning to worry about whether or not he was going to wake up at all. By the time we were ready to go home for holidays he was starting to walk again. Mum said, ecstatically, in a letter that he was months ahead of schedule.  
  
The morning that we left for home Dad sent Albus and I an owl with a bit of information about what was going to happen that night. Apparently we were supposed to meet up with Jacob's family and have dinner. I wasn't quite sure why but I definitely wasn't going to complain.  
  
It was raining when we left, so everybody hustled down to the carriages, or at least as fast as you could hustle towing a full trunk and a broomstick. I didn't really expect to be playing Quidditch this break, as all my teachers had dumped a bunch of homework on us and I probably wouldn't have the time. Besides, everyone else I could play with was in a similar situation: Jacob and I had the same classes, so he was just as overloaded, Albus had N.E.W.T.s in June and had even more homework than I did, and I'm pretty sure my parents would be too tired for Quidditch after working all day.  
  
There were six of us in our compartment: me, Jacob, Albus, Rose, Scorpius, and Hugo. At some point during the trip Albus and Rose were going to have to leave to go patrol up and down the train, though, which meant that it was just going to be me, Jacob, Hugo, and Scorpius. A small part of me was hoping that Hugo would go off to sit with some of his friends. I knew that Scorpius wasn't going anywhere, because of Rose, but I liked Scorpius more than Hugo anyways. Besides, he and Rose were probably going to be too busy with each other to notice anything Jacob and I said to each other. That was a very, very cynical view of their relationship, but since they weren't going to be seeing each other for two weeks it was a little bit close to the truth.  
  
"So," Scorpius said once the train had started moving, "how's James doing?" I liked the fact that he sounded genuinely concerned, unlike a few other people I could name that had (somehow) heard about what had happened. They just wanted something to gossip about and for some reason they had chosen my brother. Uh uh. Wrong choice; it was obvious that they didn't really care about him.  
  
"He's better," Albus answered, pulling a Chocolate Frog out of his pocket. He opened the package, tried to snatch the Frog, missed, and watched with dismay as it hopped through the compartment door and out of sight. Scorpius laughed.  
  
"According to Mum he's supposed to leave the hospital at the end of Christmas break," Albus continued. "I think the day after we leave to come back to Hogwarts is the tentative date the Healers set?" He looked at me questioningly and I nodded.  
  
"That's good." Scorpius smiled.  
  
"I really hope that that's the last we'll see of Alexandra," Hugo piped up.  
  
"I don't think so," Albus said. "If she's gone to all the trouble she has to antagonize us, or whatever her goal is, she isn't going to stop now."  
  
"Especially after St Mungo's," Scorpius added. "Now, in addition to everyone in the Weasley family wanting her guts, there are one hundred other families with the same goal."  
  
"What would she even end up doing," I wondered out loud, "if the Aurors didn't catch her? I know she's going to get caught eventually, but just say she managed to avoid them. Where would she go? What would she do?"  
  
"I think she'd probably leave the country," Jacob said slowly. "Even if the Aurors didn't catch her right away they would eventually if she stayed here. Yes, there's a so-called criminal underworld, or at least my parents seem to think so, but I think the Aurors arrest everyone there once in a while on some minor thing. They'd probably mention her name and then she'd be toast."  
  
"So either she's going to get caught or she's going to go abroad," Hugo said. "Either way, we're pretty much good."  
  
"I guess," Jacob replied, "although she hasn't actually been caught yet, so we can't tell."  
  
"Yeah, you're right, I guess," Hugo said. "Anybody up for a game of chess? I haven't practiced in a while."  
  
"We played last night and you creamed me," Jacob reminded him.  
  
Hugo laughed. "That game was about thirty seconds long. It wasn't much practice."  
  
"Come on," Jacob protested. "I'm not that bad!"  
  
"You're right, you're not," I interrupted. "Hugo's just a heck of a lot better than you."  
  
"That's true," Hugo said thoughtfully. "How about Exploding Snap?"  
  
"The last time we played Exploding Snap David jinxed the cards so that they overexploded and set my drapes on fire," Jacob objected. "I don't trust you."  
  
"Okay," Hugo said, "I'll go find David and play with him. He won't object to a game." He got up and left.  
  
"He probably rigged this deck, too," Jacob muttered under his breath and I couldn't help laughing.  
  
"I'm tired," Rose said sleepily, leaning against Scorpius. He looked exhausted, as did Albus.  
  
"Why are all three of you so sleepy?" I demanded. Granted, I was tired too, but the three of them looked like they were about to drop dead.  
  
"Midnight to three AM patrol," Rose said, her eyes nearly closed, leaning against Scorpius. "Just wait, Lily."  
  
"So then why is Scorpius tired?" I asked.  
  
"Couldn't sleep." His eyes were already closed as he leaned against the seat, Rose beside him and using his chest as a pillow. They looked both cute and vomit-inducing, which I had previously thought wasn't possible.  
  
I stifled a yawn and glanced at Jacob out of the corner of my eye. He looked dead to the world as well, his head leaning against the window pane and his arms crossed over his chest. I wanted to do what Rose was doing with Scorpius right now and snuggle (if using your boyfriend as a pillow could be called snuggling). Instead I leaned my head against the seat and tried to fall asleep.  
  
I guess I was successful, because I came to a while later, leaning to the right. I kept my eyes closed, since I didn't particularly want to wake up. I'm not sure what exactly I was leaning against - Jacob's shoulder seemed like the best bet.  
  
There was an arm draped around my own shoulder. Unless Jacob was a contortionist it wasn't his shoulder. I'm pretty sure that Jacob and I looked like what Rose and Scorpius looked like when I fell asleep.  
  
"Ugh, everyone's all couple-y," I heard Albus mutter disdainfully. The seat rustled and the compartment door opened and shut again. I guessed he was gone. I drifted off to sleep again and woke up when we were back at King's Cross.  
  
"Guys." Albus was back. "I know you all want to snuggle with each other, but we're back in King's Cross."  
  
I sat up drowsily, shaking Jacob awake. "Oi," I said, "we're here." He got up, rubbing his eyes, and the five of us got our luggage and left the train.  
  
My parents were waiting on the other side of the barrier, standing with Jacob's father, who I recognized from earlier, and a woman who looked so much like Jacob she had to have been his mother.  
  
"Hi, Mum," I said, giving her a hug.  
  
She hugged me back and said warmly, "Hi, Lily. How's school?"  
  
"The usual," I said. "Quidditch practice, Prefect patrols, trying to stay awake in History of Magic."  
  
She laughed and turned to lead the way to the Ministry car that was waiting with a bunch of other cars, in - what was it called? A parking lot?  
  
"So," Jacob asked once we were in the car, "are we spending all of the holidays with you guys?"  
  
"No," his dad answered. "Just for the week until Christmas, then we're going to visit my family."  
  
My thoughts became a lot happier at the prospect of spending a week with Jacob, with no distractions, aside from meddling brothers and parents.  
  
When we got to my house, the car parked in front of the gate and we all got out. Jacob stood there beside his trunk, staring at the row of houses in confusion.  
  
"Ten, eleven, thirteen," he muttered, counting numbers. "Where's number twelve? There's no house."  
  
"Oh, it's there," I said. "Look again."  
  
"Right," he said, as the house must have suddenly appeared to him. "Why couldn't I see it before?"  
  
"There's a Fidelius Charm on it," my dad said, walking through the gate with Albus's trunk. "It prevents the Muggles from seeing this house."  
  
"Why can't you just undo it?" Jacob asked, following him.  
  
"First of all, only the original castor, or someone else they designate, can remove the spell," my dad said. "The original castor was a member of the aristocratic and supremacist House of Black, a pure-blood who couldn't possibly have imagined a half-blood family living in their house. Second, I think the Muggles would notice if a house just randomly showed up. They've gone hundreds of years thinking that the builders screwed up the numbers."  
  
"Besides," I added, "I'm pretty sure knocking on their front doors and saying 'Hello, we're the owners of the secret magic house next door' would breach the International Statute of Secrecy."  
  
"It most definitely would," Jacob's dad said from behind me.  
  
We walked in the front door and into the front hall. "All right," Mum said, "Jacob, you can sleep in Albus's room if you want." Albus made a face that said he didn't really want Jacob sleeping in his room but didn't want to start anything by saying so. Mum saw that face and added, "Or you can sleep in the spare room beside Lily's."  
  
"I think I'll take the room beside Lily's," Jacob said. "Thank you, Mrs Potter."  
  
"No problem," she said warmly.   
  
Jacob turned to me and said, "Where is this room?"  
  
"I'll show you," I told him, leading him up the stairs. I stopped at one landing to rest my arm, wishing I was of age, when Jacob tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the wall/.  
  
"What-" he asked. I turned to see what he was gesturing at and tried to suppress laughter.  
  
"Oh, those," I said. "The Blacks, who used to live in this house, kept house-elves as servants. When they died their heads were put on the wall. With a Permanent Sticking Charm, so we'd have to remove the actual wall to get rid of them."  
  
"Um, okay," he said, obviously creeped out. We got to the top of the stairs and I pointed out his bedroom to him and then went into mine.  
  
My bedroom was, obviously, just as I had left it. Red and gold paint on the walls, my bed in the corner, a desk, some bookshelves, and a space in another corner for my broom. Beside the broom was a large window. I wasn't sure what would happen if I leaned out of it. My parents had told me not to, probably because it would break the Fidelius Charm, or shock some Muggle walking home after work. Bob Smith working for the local grocery store would have a heart attack seeing a floating body suddenly emerge.  
  
Jacob knocked on the door, breaking my thoughts. "Lily," he asked, "where's the bathroom?"  
  
"Across the hall," I told him. He nodded in relief and walked out, leaving me alone in silence.  
  
Honestly, I was having mixed feelings about having the Walkers over for a week. Don't get me wrong, I loved the fact that Jacob and I would be (probably) spending the majority of that time together. But I didn't know his parents very well - I'd seen his dad twice and today was the first time I'd met his mom - and I was pretty sure that my brother would be a little bit of a nuisance, as well.  
  
Speaking of my brother, the house felt a little empty. When James was here he made everything a lot happier and warmer. Without him it felt cold and depressing, and I didn't really want to be here. I wanted to be back at Hogwarts, in the common room, with the warm colours and the fire roaring in the grate and all my friends around me.  
  
At dinner Jacob and I did a bit of prodding, trying to get our parents to tell us why they were staying for a week. They resolutely refused to tell us anything, insisting that it was because we were all friends and friends spend time together. Jacob and I exchanged a look after they said that and the meaning was clear: they're lying, we'll find the truth out later. We dropped it for the time being, because they obviously weren't going to tell us anything.  
  
The next day Mum and I went shopping, both for Christmas presents and for dress robes for the dance, which was the main thing that I was looking forward to. Just over two weeks to go.  
  
I ended up picking light blue dress robes. To be honest, it was more of a dress than anything. I was a little influenced by descriptions I had heard of Aunt Hermione at the Yule Ball in her fourth year. Uncle Ron had told me what she'd looked like, emphasizing several times how beautiful she had looked. (Then Aunt Hermione had interjected that he'd spent more time staring at her than paying attention to his own date, but that's not the point.)  
  
After we bought the robes Mum and I split up: Mum to go off and buy presents for us (and obviously I couldn't be there while she was doing so) and me to go do the shopping that I hadn't already finished.  
  
I think it was only Jacob that I had to buy something for. I had spent a lot of time wondering about what to get him. I didn't want to buy him something extremely fancy, as it would look a bit odd, considering we were, to everyone else, just friends (who were going to a dance together). In the end, I settled with getting him a fancy Seeker's kit: a professional-grade Snitch, a little booklet with a bunch of tips and tricks for finding the Snitch faster, and a bunch of other stuff.  
  
After buying Jacob his present (and thus finishing my Christmas shopping) I quickly went into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for some Extendable Ears. I wasn't sure if that trick would work, since my uncles invented them and surely my parents would know to Ear-proof their discussions, but it was worth a shot. I felt a little guilty deceiving my parents, but shook it off by thinking that they were deceiving us by not telling us the entire truth.


	19. New Year's (Jacob)

The week that my parents and I spent at the Potter's house was perfect, mainly because I got to spend it all with Lily. By the end of the week Albus had made a joke about whether or not we were dating. We weren't, but neither of us bothered to say anything.  
  
The second day, after dinner, Lily and I were alone in her room playing chess. We were about equal, both in terms of ability and in who was winning the current game.  
  
At least so I thought, as she took my knight and leaned back in satisfaction, placing the piece beside the board. "Checkmate."  
  
"Already?" I asked, then looked down at the board. "You've got to be kidding me."  
  
"Already," she confirmed. "Another game?"  
  
"Well," I said slowly, "I'd love to, but I also want to find out why exactly we're here. Not that I don't like being here or anything," I added quickly, "but I wasn't really expecting it and they haven't really said anything."  
  
Lily nodded and stood up, picking a bag off of her desk. "I thought you would want to know that," she said, "so I went and did a little shopping." She pulled a human ear attached to a bunch of string out of the bag.  
  
"Why are you holding an ear?" I asked.  
  
"You've never seen an Extendable Ear before?" she asked, answering my question with another question.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"An Extendable Ear," she said. "Basically it'll let us listen in on their conversation and we can find out what's going on. Or," she added thoughtfully, "we'll just get a bunch of boring Ministry blather, but it's worth a shot."  
  
It turned out that the shot hit right on target. We stood at the top of the stairs and Lily slowly let out string. She stopped the Ear just above the top of the door, so that if anybody came out they wouldn't know what was up immediately.  
  
"Why weren't you in Slytherin?" I whispered.  
  
"Hatstall," she shrugged. "Quiet."  
  
"-anything about Alexandra, Harry?" That was Lily's mum, coming crystal clear as if she was right beside us. Thinking that she was, in fact, right beside us, instead of downstairs, I jumped and Lily shook with barely suppressed laughter.  
  
"Nothing," Mr Potter said. I still wasn't really sure what to call him - Harry seemed a bit too familiar and Mr Potter a bit too impersonal. I decided to go with Mr Potter, as it was also formal and he was Lily's father.  
  
"I thought," my dad interjected, "that she'd be ramping up her activity, given why we're here and all."  
  
I leaned in closer to the Ear.  
  
"Since our house is gone it would've been a reasonable assumption to guess that she would go after more people," my mum said.  
  
What?  
  
The house is gone?  
  
I sat there, shocked, while my parents and Lily's parents kept talking. Why would Alexandra blow up the house? I had expected her more to go after people. It wasn't like I was extremely sad - the house was okay, but I had only lived in it for two months before going to Hogwarts, and all my stuff - all my really important stuff - was in my trunk further upstairs.  
  
"It was just around the time that I would've gotten home from work, too," my mum added. "I was extremely lucky in getting stuck behind somebody who didn't really know how to Floo. They kept dropping the powder and weren't really sure where they wanted to go, but I'm glad they were there."  
  
"Aside from the house," my dad said, "what else do we know about her?"  
  
"What is this, an Auror meeting?" I muttered. Lily told me to be quiet.  
  
"Well," Mr Potter said, "she's not just working by herself. Obviously, you two know that she has help from someone inside the Ministry, as she managed to bypass the wards to destroy your house and only someone from the Ministry would be able to take them down or lift them."  
  
"Yes," my mum said.  
  
"We - that is, you, me, and Proudfoot - think that, in addition to this Ministry help, she's getting aid from some former Death Eaters and Snatchers."  
  
"I thought they were all sentenced to life in Azkaban?" my mum said.  
  
"Most of them were," Mr Potter said, his voice cold. "A few of them were released, because their crimes supposedly weren't as heinous as the others. Three or four managed to escape somehow, and we never found them. They never committed any crime that caused us to catch them in an investigation, and we haven't gotten any leads on them."  
  
"Our natural conclusion was that they'd left the country and gone abroad, but we keep an eye out anyways," my dad added.  
  
"One family escaped prison altogether," Mr Potter said. "The Malfoys, although I don't think they're a problem. After Voldemort was killed Lucius Malfoy was a broken man, who, although he still believes in the Death Eater values, hasn't acted on any of them. Narcissa died about ten or so years ago, and she saved my life during the Battle of Hogwarts."  
  
Beside me, Lily looked surprised.  
  
"And Draco completely abandoned the Death Eaters and raised his son - Scorpius - to respect everybody, regardless of blood purity," Mr Potter finished.  
  
"So we think some Death Eaters are helping her," my mum said. "Do we know who these Death Eaters are?"  
  
"Unfortunately, no," Dad said. "We're keeping an eye out, though. If anyone helps Alexandra, we should know soon."  
  
"Well, the dance is in just over a week," Mrs Potter said. That's right - Christmas was in two days. I hadn't really been paying attention to that. "If she does anything anytime soon, it'll be at the dance, because there are more people there."  
  
"We know that," Mr Potter said, "and so we've already increased our security plans for that night. All the Aurors will be there, on the lookout."  
  
"I think that's enough," Lily muttered quietly, pulling in the Extendable Ear string. We left our vantage point by the stairs and moved back to her room, just as the kitchen door opened and somebody came out.  
  
The next morning we said goodbye to the Potters and Apparated, with our stuff, to spend Christmas with my family. I wasn't anticipating anything exciting happening - none of my aunts or uncles had children, so I was all by myself for a few days. The prospect almost made me want to go back and stay with Lily and her parents.  
  
Christmas morning came and we all opened our presents. The entire family gathered in my aunt's living room and exchanged gifts. It was only when we were almost done that I realized that I had forgotten to give my gift to Lily before I left. Oh well, I told myself. I could give it to her before the dance on New Year's.  
  
The days before the dance seemed to drag on forever. In hindsight, it probably didn't help that I decided to do all my homework in those few days, thus making it seem even more boring. Finally, it was New Year's Eve.  
  
I spent a long time fussing over my dress robes. I didn't usually spend a lot of time worrying about my appearance, but I wanted to look really good for Lily. By the time the Potters arrived, I was just about done getting ready.  
  
"You know," came Lily's voice from the door, "if you preened yourself a bit more, you could be a bird."  
  
Startled, I jumped and turned to look at her. She was gorgeous. I mean, it wasn't like she was ugly at Hogwarts or anything (she was very attractive wherever she was), but you could tell she'd put effort into her appearance, and chosen robes that fit her.  
  
I smiled at her nervously and hoped that Harry Potter didn't know how to use Legilimency.  
  
"You're beautiful," I said weakly, then remembered my gift, which was on the counter, in a box. "Oh, I forgot to give this to you earlier." I handed the box to her and watched expectantly as she opened it.  
  
"Wow," Lily said in wonder, "it's beautiful." She took the necklace out of the box and held it up admiringly. "I want to wear this tonight."  
  
"Here," I said, holding out my hand. She gave me the necklace and turned around so I could clasp it around her neck.  
  
"We should probably go," she said reluctantly, motioning towards the stairs.          
  
I went out the door first, stowing my wand in my pocket, where I could reach it. It probably wouldn't be necessary, but I had heard my parents and Lily's talking in the kitchen before Christmas. I wanted to be ready just in case.  
  
We took a car to the Ministry. My mum opposed Flooing, as the soot would get on our robes and stay, and we couldn't very well Apparate in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood.  
  
The Ministry itself was decked out very fancily, and you could tell they had put a lot of effort into decorating it.  
  
We walked over to a desk and checked it, which mainly consisted of my dad and Lily's talking to the guard, motioning at us, and doing a seemingly routine security check.  
  
"Okay," my dad said, returning with a pile of wristbands in his hand, "take one and put it on. It's proof you're actually part of the party."  
  
"This seems like a very Muggle-like thing," Albus mused, examining his wristband with a curious look on his face.  
  
"It is, I know," Mr Potter said, "but it works."      
  
"Okay," Dad said, "let's go socialize."  
  
We did just that, entering the gigantic ballroom and moving around. Lily and I stayed together, greeting people who always seemed to know her, and sometimes me. She didn't seem bothered by the fact that random people would come up to her calling her name and asking her how she was. I thought it was creepy, and was a little baffled when one wizard joined me at the snack table and started asking me how I was. Thankfully, when I appeared to be confused and a bit creeped out he introduced himself, saying he worked with my dad. I recognized the name.  
  
It seemed that everyone was here, even people who I thought would have been excluded. At about 10 o'clock, Lily and I bumped into Lucius Malfoy. We (Lily and I) were sitting down at one of the tables, eating dinner, when he walked by and started a conversation with us. I suppose you could say he was polite, but not really: he might have been well-mannered, but his holier-than-thou attitude was very wearying. He didn't come across as anyone I'd want to be acquainted with, since I knew he was a former Death Eater, and my mother was a Muggle-born.  
  
"Well," Lily remarked after he moved on, "that was unpleasant."  
  
"Was that-?" I stared after him.  
  
"Scorpius's grandfather, yes," she said. "He unraveled a bit after Narcissa Malfoy - his wife - died ten or so years ago."  
  
"I guess the Malfoy line's gotten nicer over the years," I replied, finishing my dinner. Lucius Malfoy really gave me the creeps. I pushed my plate away from me and stood up. "Want to dance?" I asked Lily.  
  
"Sure." She smiled and let me lead her into the middle of the ballroom.  
  
It was then that I realized that I didn't really know how to dance. Sure, I was moderately proficient in the school-party-swaying-back-and-forth style of what I thought was pretending to be drunk, not dancing, but I wasn't sure how to actually dance.  
  
So we watched everybody else for a little bit, followed them, and after a little bit we were good. We danced for an hour or two, and before we knew it there were only 5 minutes until New Year's.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen!" a voice boomed from near the band that had been playing, "We'll be playing one more song, and then the countdown will begin!"  
  
It was a slow song, of course. Everybody moved closer together, including Lily and I. We managed to put ourselves near a wall, where we could dance in peace. I had never heard this song before, but I liked it a lot (not just because it meant I could dance with Lily).  
  
Eventually, and unfortunately, the song ended, and I realized what I wanted to do. I had to wait a bit, though - not too long, thankfully.  
  
"All right, there are 15 seconds until New Year's!" the voice said again. "Let's count down - well, 10 now," they added.  
  
10\. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.  
  
"Happy new year!" everybody chorused, and all around us - well part of the way around us, because we were near a wall - people started leaning in closer.  
  
I took a deep breath. "Happy new year, Lily," I said softly, leaning in. She moved in as well and our lips touched, tentatively, before we both became more confident and aggressive. It was the best first kiss I could have imagined.  
  
Then the wall exploded.


	20. The Attack at the Ministry (Lily)

I wasn't entirely sure what had happened, to be honest. One minute Jacob and I were sharing a most wonderful kiss and the next minute we were both on the ground while it rained bricks. He was on top of me, and he was really, really heavy, so I pushed at him to get off of me and stood up.  
  
The Ministry was chaos, and I drew my wand quickly, as I knew that I would need it. My hand clasped in Jacob's, we stared around us in shock. From the little I could see - the rubble of the wall had caused a lot of smoke - there was chaos all around. Jet of light whizzed around our heads, green and red both, from people fighting.  
  
Staring around us, we finally found my dad, over by the door ushering people out. We rushed up to him.  
  
"I want to fight," I said flatly, surprising myself.  
  
"No," Dad said, his voice just as flat. "We're pretty sure that Alexandra's behind this, and it's just not safe."  
  
"Albus is fighting!" I said angrily, gesturing at my idiot brother, who was in the middle of the fray.  
  
"Albus is of age!" Dad said. "I can't stop him, much as I might want to. Now, you two need to leave with everyone else and fight somewhere safe to go. Floo home. Go back to Hogwarts. The Burrow. I don't know. But once you do that, send an owl."  
  
I wanted to protest that argument, to keep standing here disagreeing with him until something happened and we had to fight, but Jacob said, "Okay," grabbed my wrist, and joined the crowd of people leaving.  
  
"I don't want to leave," Jacob told me once we were through the door. "Sure, it might not be a good idea to fight, but we could just find a secluded corner somewhere and stay there. Anyways, it's probably safer here than elsewhere, as I'm sure that if this was a coordinated and planned attack - which it seems to be - they'd cut off all the Floo gates."  
  
"How many Auror novels have you read?" I asked, trying to crack a joke as we walked quickly down a hall, away from everyone else.  
  
"None where the Ministry gets attacked," he replied. "But it seems like common sense that if you want to cause as much damage as possible, you cut off the escape route."  
  
"You can Apparate out, though," I reminded him. "Well, we can't, but almost everyone else can."  
  
"I suppose they could block that off," he said, and stopped. "How about here?"  
  
"The men's room?" I asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes." He shrugged. "Nobody goes in there, and when we get asked why we didn't just leave we can say that I had to use it. And," he added, "since I actually have to use it, it's not a lie."  
  
"No," I decided. "Feels too weird. There's a door over there," I said, and pointed. "We can hide there."  
  
Once Jacob was done we opened the door and went into what turned out to be a supply cupboard.  
  
"This is cozy," I said wryly, taking a seat opposite Jacob. With nothing else to do I closed my eyes, leaned my head back, and thought.  
  
I wasn't sure, to be honest, why the two of us were still here at the Ministry. My dad had given us clear instructions to leave, and we hadn't. I knew why I didn't want to leave - if Alexandra was here I wanted to face her, have a crack at her. Pay back what she had done to James. Anger was clouding my reasoning here, but I didn't care.  
  
Jacob, though... He could've left with everyone else instead of staying here with me. Frankly, I wasn't sure why he hadn't left, to be honest. It was probably much safer elsewhere than it was here.  
  
Especially since there were footsteps outside the door, loud and fast. Both of us jerked upright, fingered our wands, and stared apprehensively at the door.  
  
"Have you found anyone else, Lucius?"  
  
Fuck.  
  
Jacob and I looked at each other, our hearts sinking. Alexandra.  
  
"Not yet," came Lucius Malfoy's voice, haughty and proud. How was he related to Scorpius?  
  
I knelt and aimed my wand at the door, just in case. Jacob did the same.  
  
"I guess most people either left," Alexandra said slowly, "or hid." The knob on the door turned slowly. "I wonder if anybody's hiding in this supply cupboard."  
  
Nobody's hiding in this supply cupboard, I thought fiercely. Nobody. Go away and get Stunned by the Aurors.  
  
The door slowly opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy, wand in hand.  
  
"There are-" he began, his head turned back to tell Alexandra. He never got any farther than that, as Jacob and I Stunned him. He fell backwards and we shared a quick look before standing up.  
  
Alexandra rushed through the door, her wand raised, and Disarmed me before I could react. Helpless, I watched as Jacob's Full-Body Bind was blocked and he was nonverbally thrown against the wall, slamming into it and hitting the floor hard. He got up slowly. I went to go help but Alexandra pointed her wand at me.  
  
"I don't think so," she said coldly. "You know, this really is satisfying. For me, anyways." She cocked her head and stared at the two of us. "We have the daughter of my worst enemy, and my beloved nephew."  
  
"I am not," Jacob said angrily, "related to you."  
  
"Oh, but you are," Alexandra said, her voice deceptively sweet. "I bet you didn't know that, did you? Did your parents lie to you about that? Or were they just too stupid to realize?"  
  
"It wouldn't have been all that hard to guess, you know," Alexandra continued conversationally. "Potter. Remember back at St Mungo's, before Christmas? I knew you recognized me before I joined you. Was it because I looked like him?" She jerked her wand in Jacob's direction and red sparks flew out the end. "Your boyfriend?"  
  
Jacob apparently wasn't going to correct her, and when I didn't say anything either and just glared at her she laughed.  
  
"Did I strike a nerve? Well, it wasn't that hard to guess. What else would two teenagers be doing in a broom cupboard, of all places? Unless you were trying to seek me out yourselves?"  
  
We had been, but she didn't need to know that, as I was sure that she would just use that as ammunition for more verbal attacks. Desperately, I looked around me, trying to see if there was anything that I could use to Stun her. My wand was on the floor about two meters to my right. Close enough to be tantalizing, but was it close enough to be able to get to before Alexandra could react?  
  
I decided to find out. Quickly, I glanced at Jacob, to see if he was paying attention (he wasn't, as he was staring at his own wand, which was a meter from Alexandra's foot. There was no way he would be able to get it.) Without giving away what I was doing beforehand, I shifted all my weight onto my left foot and threw myself to the right, bending down to grab my wand and dodge a Full-Body Bind that Alexandra sent my way.  
  
My wand was now in my hand, pointed at Alexandra, who was mirroring my position. I focused on her and ignored Jacob for the time being, as he didn't have a wand and was standing there helplessly.  
  
Alexandra slowly bent down, her wand still on me, and picked up Jacob's wand, twirling it around her fingers. "Can't use this now," she muttered under her breath. Without saying a word a jet of red light flew out of her wand towards me.  
  
"Protego!" I cried, and even with plenty of warning time my shield was barely up in time. The jet ricocheted off it and bounced over to Jacob, who ducked just in time.  
  
While Alexandra was distracted, I made up my mind about what I wanted to do. "Petrificus Totalus," I muttered quietly, and watched as the spell hit her and threw her backwards before she could react. As soon as she hit the ground Jacob moved forward and took his wand back.  
  
"What now?" he asked quietly, and I could tell he was still shocked by what Alexandra had told him.  
  
"Now..." I said slowly, "we find someone." I didn't say what we should do when we found someone, because we had been told to leave and I think Dad expected us to have left.  
  
I supposed that I could just point out that like father, like daughter because Aunt Hermione at Christmas tells us lots of stories about how Dad and Uncle Ron never did anything they were supposed to.  
  
We stepped out into the corridor, Jacob with his back turned and his wand on Alexandra just in case, my wand on Lucius Malfoy, and waited for someone to come.  
  
Eventually, someone rounds the corner and spots us, and finally Dad and Tarquin showed up, their Auror robes dirty and their wands out.  
  
"What happened here?" Dad asked in shock.  
  
"Alexandra," I said simply.  
  
"Weren't you supposed to leave?" Tarquin added suspiciously.  
  
"I had to go to the loo," Jacob explained.  
  
Tarquin sighed. "All right." He caught side of Lucius and Alexandra's unconscious bodies and added, "We should probably get them to the cells in the basement." He looked at us and added, "And you two need to come to the Auror Office and give your testimony."  
  
"Testimony?" Jacob asked.  
  
"Yes," Tarquin confirmed. "At some point, there's going to be a trial and we'll need witnesses for the prosecution."  
  
We went down to the Auror Office and told our stories: my version to Tarquin and Jacob's version to an Auror named Proudfoot, who I recognized from various _Daily Prophet_ clippings.  
  
I wasn't really sure why both Jacob and I needed to tell the same story twice, but now, looking back, I think that Tarquin wanted to talk to me and was just being sneaky about it. After I told him what had happened - modifying it a bit, to make it sound like Jacob had had to go to the bathroom and then we had hidden in the supply cupboard - he folded up the sheet, placed it in a folder, and leaned back in his chair.  
  
"I've been wanting to talk to you for a while," he said easily.  
  
"About what?" I asked, tensing up.  
  
"My son," he said. "Oh, don't worry, this isn't a bad conversation," he added hastily. "I'm just curious about a few things."  
  
"Like what?" I said, still cautious.  
  
"Like whether or not you two are dating," he said. "He hasn't said anything concrete, but you two look like it, and..." He trailed off.  
  
I wasn't sure how to reply to this. How did I explain my relationship with Jacob, whatever it was? To be entirely honest, the guy confused me sometimes.  
  
"I don't know, to be entirely honest," I admitted.  
  
"You two look like you're dating," he told me. "I saw you two dancing tonight and you looked just as much a couple as some of the actual couples. I saw the way he looked at you during the week we spent at your house, and he stared at you the same way I stared at my wife when I first fell in love with her."  
  
I had noticed that.  
  
"Well, he did kiss me tonight," I said slowly, "so I guess you could say maybe on the dating front? I don't really know. We've gone to Hogsmeade together, and there's also tonight as well."  
  
Tarquin nodded. "Okay, thank you," he said, and stood up to leave.  
  
"Wait," I interrupted, standing up as well, "I know this probably isn't any of my business, as I'm not part of your family, but I'm curious about something."  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"Was Alexandra actually adopted?"  
  
My question seemed to take him by surprise. I don't know what he thought I was going to ask but that definitely wasn't it.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"It was something Alexandra told Jacob before we knocked her out. She said that she was actually his uncle and she wasn't adopted."  
  
Tarquin inhaled sharply and took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, "We used to think she was, but now we're not so sure. To be honest, I really don't have a clue."  
  
We began walking back to where my parents were standing, with Jacob, looking kind of awkward, and I said, "Well, when she blew up St Mungo's I recognized her beforehand because she looked like Jacob."  
  
Tarquin nodded sombrely. "I'll look into it."  
  
We reached my parents and Jacob immediately crossed over to stand beside me, something that Tarquin seemed to note with amusement in his eye.  
  
"Well?" Mum said. "Are we ready to go?"  
  
"Where are we going?" I asked.  
  
"Back to Hogwarts," Dad said firmly. "I think that's safest."  
  
"Safe?" I protested. "Whatever threat there might've been is over. We should be fine now."  
  
Dad shook his head. "From experience, not always," he said. "Besides, we need to let the Hogwarts staff know what's going on."  
  
In the end, my parents won (as I suppose was inevitable), and we went back to Hogwarts, our trunks to follow, as we were informed. My parents and Jacob's parents spent a long time talking with Professor McGonagall and Neville (it still felt weird calling him Professor Longbottom, even after four and a half years), so Jacob and I gave up, said our goodbyes, and left.  
  
We walked to Gryffindor tower in silence, our fingers intertwined between us, and then said our reluctant goodbyes and went off to bed. It was 4 o'clock in the morning.    


	21. Common Knowledge (Jacob)

After getting back to Hogwarts I had put all thought of what Alexandra had said to me that night out of my mind. Or at least, I tried to. It was pretty hard to ignore something when people kept asking me about it. The day after the fiasco at the Ministry (or, I suppose, later in the day), the _Daily Prophet_ published its article detailing what had happened. Obviously, Lily and I were mentioned in it, as the couple who had brought down Alexandra Walker, demolisher of St Mungo's. The paper made extra sure to mention the fact that Alexandra and I were related. Of course. They specifically emphasized how self-sacrificing it was of me to take down my own family to make sure everyone was safe.  
  
Reading it, I wanted to puke. I didn't consider Alexandra family, and had never done so. I had thought, also, that she wasn't even related to me, but apparently I was wrong. The article also skipped over the fact that it had been Lily, not me, to actually take Alexandra down. I had done nothing except stand there and watch, yet the _Prophet_ wrote the article like it was me who had done everything. It annoyed me, and I was sure that Lily, when she saw it, would be similarly unimpressed.  
  
I closed the newspaper with disgust and sighed, looking around me. There was still one day left until everybody on holiday returned to Hogwarts, and there weren't a lot of people who had decided to stay. Right now the common room was deserted, aside from me. Hugo was still asleep in bed, snoring loud enough to wake the dead, and I hadn't seen Lily yet, not that I could go up and check anyways. Early in the year - mid-September, I think - I had, exhausted, gone up the wrong staircase, thinking that it was the one leading up to my dormitory. I certainly hadn't been expecting it to turn into a slide.  
  
So waking Lily up was out of the question, because I wasn't going to shout up there, because that would wake up everyone else in the house and I didn't want to do that.  
  
Speaking of Lily, I wasn't sure where the two of us stood in relation to each other. We had obviously gone to the dance together, and we had kissed. She had kissed me back, we had held hands on the way back here tonight (or, I suppose, this morning), and then she had promptly gone to bed, without a moment's glance back. I didn't understand women, especially Lily. I thought she liked me back, and I desperately hoped that it was so, but I was 100% sure and I didn't want to err again like I had back in Canada.  
  
Awkward it undoubtedly would be, I decided that as soon as Lily woke up we would have an honest conversation about where the two of us were. I thought it was necessary, and it would clear up a lot of confusion, at least on my end.  
  
I had been waiting nervously for an hour and a half when Lily finally emerged, still in pyjamas, her hair wet from a shower.  
  
"Morning," she said cheerily, her face brightening as she saw me.  
  
"It's two in the afternoon," I replied. "You hungry?" I hoped she wasn't, because that meant we could go talk in private. I wasn't sure how private the Great Hall would be, even at this hour. People tended to congregate there to do homework and chat.  
  
"No," she said.  
  
"Then can we talk?" I asked. "Alone?"  
  
Lily nodded. "About?"  
  
I hesitated briefly. "Us," I said.  
  
We found a spot in the seventh-floor corridor that was deserted. I didn't think there were more than 50 people in the castle, excluding the teachers, so the chance of the two of us being disturbed mid-conversation was very low.  
  
"I've been wanting to talk to you as well," Lily said, settling beside me down in front of the window. It looked out upon the Transfiguration courtyard, and I would normally have stopped to look out and see if anyone was outside, but I had more important things on my mind.  
  
"So," Lily began, "what I really wanted to talk to you about was New Year's." She paused for a moment and started talking much more slowly. "That... kiss... was it a spur-of-the-moment thing?" I could hear the curiosity in her voice.  
  
"Yes and no," I admitted reluctantly. Eyes averted, I quickly elaborated. "It was something I'd wanted to do for a while but I took the opportunity when I saw it."  
  
"You know," Lily said lightly, "you had plenty of other opportunities. How many prefect patrols have we done together?" She let the question trail off, and then added, "Why didn't you take any of those opportunities?"  
  
"Too shy, I guess," I confessed. Here I had a problem: did I let Lily know about what had happened in Canada, or did I stay silent about it and let her think I couldn't work up the courage to kiss her. I chose the former.  
  
"There's another reason as well," I added. Lily said nothing but raised both of her eyebrows. "It involves something that happened back when I was in Canada."  
  
"Good or bad?" Lily questioned.  
  
"Bad," I said. It certainly wasn't good. "When I was back in Canada - so, last year - I had a huge crush on this girl. She pretty much looked like your standard romance novel heroine, and that's an example of what an idiot I was last year." I inserted this self-deprecating remark easily, and then continued. "I only had two classes with her: Arithmancy and Charms. Sat beside her in Arithmancy, across the room from her in Charms. This crush lasted from, oh, I'd say the beginning of the year, or shortly after that, until about February. Now, about December I was convinced that she had started hitting on me in Charms. You know, throwing flirty glances across the room and eyebrow wiggling and stuff like that." Stuff _I'd_ been doing in class to you, I silently added. "I was wrong about this, but lived under the delusion for about two months or so. What I probably should have noticed was that she wasn't doing anything in Arithmancy, aside from actual work. We sat right beside each other and she was never anything other than slightly condescending."  
  
"Slightly condescending?" Lily asked sceptically.  
  
"Yes," I said. "At the time, I chalked it down to nerves on her part." I stared out the window. "I was wrong."  
  
"So," I continued, "early February, just before Valentine's Day, I had the amazing idea of asking her out. Nothing could possibly go wrong, I thought. She likes me, she's been flirting with me for two months, etc etc. Well, it went wrong. When I went to ask her out, it turned out that she didn't like me after all."  
  
"But the flirting in class...."  
  
"Was not intended for me at all, apparently," I said. "When I asked her out, she told me point-black that she hadn't been hitting on me; she'd been flirting with the guy who sat beside me. She flat-out rejected me, told me she'd never date me, and then asked out this other guy who she actually wanted to date." Recounting this to Lily brought up the memories. The memory of being humiliated was still there, but I didn't have any feelings for Amanda Fenwick anymore. Lily had made sure of that, unknowingly or not.  
  
"Bitch." That was Lily, her voice just as hard as it had been last night when we were confronted with Alexandra. Then her voice softened and she said, "Jacob, I would _never_ do that to you."  
  
"That's not all," I continued. "The guy said yes, and I couldn't even get mad at that, because he was a pretty decent person. All I could pretty much do was stand there in shock and then leave. Then, later," this was the good part, "I was walking behind her on the way to lunch a few days later. They didn't know I was there, and I didn't intend to listen in to their conversation. They were talking about me: how they didn't have any idea how I could have mistaken her flirting so badly and thought it was for me."  
  
"That was mainly the reason why I jumped at the chance to come here. My mum had been working as a liaison between the two Departments of Magical Games and Sports, and had been transferred back home. If I wanted, I could have stayed with the school over the summer until I graduated, then come here. But I didn't want to; this whole fiasco with Amanda Fenwick - the girl - made me want to leave that school as early as possible and not see anyone there."  
  
We sat in silence for a little while, and then I continued with my story, even though I was reaching the end. "I think," I said, "the reason I mistook the flirting was because I was so desperate for some sign of affection, some sign that she liked me back, that I took an innocent action - well, innocent towards me, anyway - and twisted it to suit what I wanted to believe. And," I continued, "I realized pretty soon after I got here that it didn't really matter to me who Amanda Fenwick liked, whether or not it was me. I simply didn't care. But what I do care about is whether you like me or not."  
  
"You're not mistaking anything," Lily murmured quietly, leaning in to me. I realized what was about to happen and closed my eyes in expectation. I was right; Lily's lips met mine softly. Her hands curled around my neck while I wrapped my arms around her waist. Our lips parted briefly before rejoining (passionately, too, I might add). Lily lost her balance and fell against me, knocking me onto the ground. My hands, which were still around her waist, ended up unintentionally pulling her so that she lay on top of me, my arms around her, her head on my chest, and her arms at my sides.  
  
"I think," Lily said, not moving, "that you know the answer to the question you never asked." Without moving she added, "So, what do we call this?"  
  
"This?" I asked, not knowing what she meant.  
  
"Us," she clarified.  
  
"Well," I searched for the right word to describe what I had been wanting for a while, "relationship?"  
  
Lily smiled and stood up, pulling me to my feet. "I think," she said, "that we should go enjoy the rest of our time off. Together."  
  
We went back to the common room to find more people there than there had been half an hour before. There still weren't a heck of a lot of people in the castle, but now they had all gotten out of bed. The nicest spot in the common room, by the couch, was still available, as everyone in the common room seemed to be at the tables, surrounded by stacks of books as they laboured to finish the homework they probably should have had done ages ago. You can't enjoy your holiday with Defense Against the Dark Arts essays hanging over your head. And it was only going to get worse as the year went on and O.W.L's approached.  
  
The two of us sat down on the couch. The fire was blazing fiercely in the grate, which made it nice and warm, perfect for a cold January afternoon like this. Lily leaned into me and closed her eyes, while I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her closer in to me. We lay like that for a while. The hours seemed to tick away like they were seconds and before I knew it Hugo was coming in from wherever he had been to get ready for dinner. Mostly likely outside, as he was shaking snow off of him. As he came further into the common room he saw Lily and I. Without saying anything he smiled slightly and went up to our dormitory. I had no idea what it meant but I thought it was something good.  
  
Dinner was the usual: quiet, with most of the school gone. Since there weren't that many people here (everybody was coming back tomorrow) we all ate at the same table. It was a lot easier to talk to people, because all you had to do was scoot down the table, instead of walking across the hall like you normally need to do.  
  
Sitting beside Lily, I blew heavily on the piece of meatloaf I had speared on my fork. The first piece I had tried to eat had been extremely hot, and I was still debating whether or not I had burned the roof of my mouth before I spit it out.  
  
"Well," I said, "let's hope that this piece isn't burn temperature." Beside me, Lily laughed and agreed with me. It wasn't, and I washed it down with a mouthful of pumpkin juice.  
  
Albus came over and joined us. "So," he said casually, "Hugo said something about you two in the Gryffindor common room earlier today."  
  
I looked up and forced myself to be casual. "And?"  
  
"He told me you two looked very... couple-y."  
  
"Yes," Lily said quietly.  
  
"Yes... wait? You two are a couple?"  
  
"Yes," I confirmed.  
  
"Since when?" Albus asked. He sounded curious more than anything.  
  
"This afternoon," Lily said. She took a bun from a basket, ripped it in half, and started briskly buttering it.  
  
"I kind of figured you two would start dating at some point," Albus replied. "You should have seen the two of you before Christmas. I swear, you looked more like a couple than the actual couples did!" He cut himself a generous portion of meatloaf and slabbed it on his plate. "Our parents were betting how long it would take for you two to get together."  
  
"Really?" Lily said sceptically, then stopped. "Well," she said to me, "your dad did ask me last night - or this morning, I suppose - about the two of us."  
  
"He did?" I was surprised by that.  
  
"Yup." Dinner finished and the dessert appeared: apple pie, which looked so good I quite frankly didn't want to eat it. Eventually, I did, and it tasted just as good as it looked.  
  
After dinner, we all went back to the Gryffindor common room. There was, apparently, a party in the dungeons, to celebrate the end of Christmas break. I wasn't sure why that was party-worthy, but Lily and I decided to go anyways. The two of us were a little late, because she'd seen the _Prophet_ article I'd been so irate about earlier and had decided to write an angry letter describing what had actually happened.  
  
When we finally got to the party, we were immediately offered Firewhiskey that, judging from the label, was about 5 times as potent as the Ogden's Finest. I had no intention of getting drunk (and neither did Lily) so we both turned it down and grabbed a Butterbeer.  
  
To be honest, I failed to see the appeal of this sort of parties. I suppose it was fun if you were so intoxicated you couldn't stand up; a seventh-year Slytherin boy had told me it was fun to wake up in the morning and find out what you had done the night before. I thought his definition of fun was off a bit.  
  
About halfway through, Lily saw some of her friends and excused herself, running off to talk to them. Pretty much as soon as she was gone I was approached by a group of guys who I vaguely recognized. Some of them I'd seen before, usually on patrol, having to send them back to bed and occasionally dock points. They came over to congratulate my on my relationship with Lily, and just from the way they phrased that I could tell what their attitudes towards it were. One of them asked me how good Lily was in bed. Subtly clasping the handle of my wand in the pocket of my robes, I told him in no uncertain terms where he could shove that train of thought. They stood silently, staring at me in shock, clutching their Firewhiskey in their hands. I pushed past them and went to find Lily.  
  
She was over in the corner with a bunch of her girlfriends, talking. I went over to them and they opened a space so I could join in with them.  
  
Lily looked at me and smiled. "We're thinking of going back to the common room," she said. "This is much too loud for our tastes."  
  
"Okay," I said, and I followed them back up. It was much quieter with almost everyone down in the dungeon, and the change was nice. It wasn't that late - only about 9, and there wasn't much else to do. We didn't have patrol tonight - thankfully, as pretty much everyone would be down in the dungeons still - all our homework was done, and there was half an hour until curfew.  
  
I sat on the couch in front of the fire and thought. Classes started tomorrow morning, and a small part of me felt sorry for everyone down in the dungeon who would be sporting hangovers and detentions for staying out past curfew. It was bad enough for us, who hadn't anything to drink, but who had been waking up halfway through the afternoon and going to bed at breakfast for most of break. Cheers for bad sleeping habits.


	22. Interlude the Second

It was pouring rain when the Aurors left the Ministry of Magic. Dark too: it was only 9 o'clock at night, but in early January it got dark at 5. After only thirty seconds out in the rain they were soaked, and the five of them were all wishing that some other unlucky person had been the one to draw Azkaban transportation duty.  
  
The Aurors flew in a circle, and in the middle of them was Alexandra Walker, bound to her broomstick. Like the Aurors, she was less than happy. Unlike the Aurors, she was perfectly fine with not being able to Apparate to Azkaban. It gave her more time to try and plan a way to escape.  
  
Two hours later, as the Aurors flew high over a Muggle ship sailing in the night - they had left land long ago - Alexandra had come up with a plan. Her hands were bound to the broomstick, as were her feet, but for what she wanted to do she only needed her hands free. The nearest Auror was close on her left; all the others were spread out equally around her. She stared at him quickly, hoping he wasn't paying close attention to her. She had seen this man fight before: he was left-handed, which meant that his wand would be on the right side of his robes, easier for him to grab if he needed it. Easier for Alexandra to grab, too.  
  
Quickly, she flew straight at the Auror, slipped her hand inside the pocket of his robes, grabbed his wand, and ducked the quick swing that he, now disarmed, threw at her. They were now side by side and she was running out of time. She pointed his wand at him and shouted, "Stupefy!", blowing him off his broom. Without taking the time to watch him fall she muttered, "Confringo" at her bound wrists and shook the rope off. Since the rope at her feet was connected, all she had to do was shrug it off as well.  
  
The other Aurors were angry now, and circling. There were only four of them left, but she was going to be wary. She had, after all, been bested by her nephew and his girlfriend. Suppressing a smile, she thought of the look on his face when she told him the truth about her parentage. Alexandra planned to be back in Britain soon, to cause more trouble.  
  
She never got the chance to do that. All five Aurors cast spells at the same time, nonverbally, and without words she was unable to know what they were, how to block them. In addition, the rain made it impossible for her to see, and she never saw the jet of red light that knocked her off her broom to her death until it was too late.  
  
*  
  
"What do you mean she's dead?" Gawain Robards, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, asked. He rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. "How did she die?"  
  
"She attacked Ianevsky, knocked him off his broom, and took his wand," the Auror said. He was still wearing the robes from the aborted trip to Azkaban. Although they had been dried, they were stiff from the salt spray of the ocean and crinkled whenever he moved or shifted his weight. "We Stunned her and she fell off her broom."  
  
"Why would you Stun her?" snapped Robards irritably. "Over open water, with the possibility of Muggle ships being around? Can you imagine the outcry if she landed on the deck of a Muggle freighter?"  
  
"I.. I don't know," admitted the Auror, shifting uncomfortably where he stood. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."  
  
Robards ignored that statement. "Did you find her body? Or Stan's? Oh, hello Harry," he added as the Head of the Auror Office stepped into the room.  
  
"What happened?" he asked.  
  
"Alexandra Walker's dead," Robards said shortly. "She tried to escape and was killed by the remnants of the transport force."  
  
"Remnants?" Harry questioned, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"She knocked Stan off his broom and took his wand," Robards said.  
  
"Stanislav Ianevsky?" Harry asked.  
  
"Apparently."  
  
"Wonderful." Harry rubbed his eyes. He too was tired. Along with the other major members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, he had been spending his time preparing a case for the trials that were shortly to follow the raid at the Ministry. This involved going all around the country and interviewing people, seeing if they had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.  
  
"You can go," Robards told the Auror, who left quickly, probably relieved that he hadn't been chewed out more thoroughly. "What's going on?" he asked Harry.  
  
"We've just made a bunch of arrests," Harry said, telling him. Robards' eyes widened as he heard the names Harry reeled off. Tomorrow would be an interesting day.


	23. All Over (Lily)

I only got four or so hours sleep the night before classes resumed. Even being almost alone in the common room while everyone was down partying in the dungeon. I was so sleep-deprived I wanted to kill the morning bell when it went off, and I had no sympathy for those who had drunk a lot and were suffering as a result. It wasn't like they could drink hangover potion: it was McGonagall's policy that we shouldn't be drinking alcohol until we had graduated. Madam Pomfrey refused to hand it out to anyone who came to her asking for it, and Professor Slughorn wouldn't brew it. As far as I knew, Mr Filch confiscated it when he saw it. (How the actual alcohol itself got into the school is beyond me.)  
  
Walking down to the common room, I met up with Jacob, who looked just as tired as I was. "Morning," he said sleepily, eyelids half-closed, his hair sticking up.  
  
"Morning," I replied. "Your tie's on backwards."  
  
"Is it?" He looked down and removed the tie entirely.  
  
We walked down to the Great Hall, where the first thing both of us did was drink a large cup of coffee. Piling food on our plates, we were talking about classes and how the work load was likely to increase when the mail came in. I stood up and caught the _Prophet_ , and stood in shock staring at the headlines.  
  
"What is it?" Jacob asked.  
  
Without saying anything, I sat down and flipped the paper around, showing him the headline.  
  
"Alexandra Walker dead," he read, frowning. "The criminal, infamous for her attack on St Mungo's hospital and the Ministry of Magic, was killed late last night on a routine trip to Azkaban, according to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Its Head, Gawain Robards, added that she had been trying to escape." He put the paper down and exhaled happily. "It's over," he said, sounding relieved.  
  
I stared at the other headline _. "Arrests made in Ministry probe following New Year's attack._ What's this about?"  
  
"People arrested because they helped Alexandra," Jacob offered helpfully.  
  
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I said, not looking up from the paper.  
   
  
He laughed. "You're welcome, Admiral Apparent."  
  
"I don't say obvious stuff like you do," I protested, and then started summarizing the article for him. "Quite a few people have been arrested, which I guess explains why Alexandra was able to stay away from the Ministry without getting caught for so long."  
  
"Who?" Jacob asked, but since his mouth was full of toast it sounded more like "Khor?"  
  
"Pardon?" I asked, and he repeated himself, identifiably this time. I scanned the article. "Umm... Lucian Fleetwood - he's an Auror, my dad's talked about him once or twice - Lucius Malfoy, obviously. Considering the role he played at New Year's that's a no-brainer. Cassiopeia Lestrange - that name's not really familiar, but it says she's Rabastan Lestrange's daughter."  
  
"That name's familiar," Jacob commented.  
  
We were joined by Albus, Rose, Scorpius, and Hugo. "I'm guessing that you've seen the paper?" Albus asked as he sat down.  
  
I waved it in his face. "No, we haven't seen it. I've just been talking about everyone that's been arrested because I have supernatural knowledge of those kind of things."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Point taken."  
  
"I can tell where you get your sense of humour from, Albus," Scorpius remarked, buttering his toast.  
  
"Yeah, our whole family consists of sarcastic little shits," Albus said.  
  
"No, it doesn't," I said, correcting him.  
  
Albus laughed. "Have you heard Dad sassing Uncle Percy behind his back at Christmas and in the summer?"  
  
I laughed as well. "How could I not?"  
  
"You're dating into a family who sasses everybody," Albus said to Jacob, who laughed.  
  
"I realized that a long time ago," he answered as the bell rang.  
  
During class, I noticed just how relaxed I now was, as I didn't have to worry about whether or not Alexandra was planning something against my family, or who was going to be attacked next. It felt good to be able to focus 100% on school.  
  
Personally, I thought that full focus came at a good time, because the teachers were starting to ramp up the amount of homework they were assigning. What had been, before Christmas, a paragraph-length summary about the ingredients used in the Draught of Peace became a length essay on why it was important to brew the potion properly, and whether it was possible to reverse the consequences if it was brewed improperly.  
  
Consequently, I found most of my spare time gone. Between homework and Quidditch, the only time Jacob and I had to ourselves was when we were patrolling. Neither of us had any free time to spend in the common room in front of the nice, warm, fire; we spent what time we had outside of Quidditch practice, class, and patrolling in the library doing homework.  
  
I would, to be honest, gladly have traded in my Prefect badge for a little bit of free time. The only thing that was stopping me was the knowledge that Jacob liked being a Prefect and if I handed in my badge the only time we would have alone with each other would be when we were surrounded by stacks of work in the library.  
  
Even Quidditch practices had become more frequent and gruelling. Early in January we had played Hufflepuff and had barely won, Jacob catching the Snitch about half a second before the Hufflepuff seeker did. In the change room after the game Declan had declared that, while he was happy we had won, a half-second margin was too close for comfort. Jacob had later concurred with this, on a patrol, adding that if he hadn't been distracted he would've caught it sooner.  
  
When I had asked him why he'd been distracted, he blushed and said nothing. I knew him well enough at this point to know that he had probably been staring at me.  
  
See, Jacob, I have you figured out here.  
  
*  
  
The weeks came and went, we were buried under work, and it snowed. Not a lot, at first, but then the snow kept coming, so much that we came back from Quidditch practice looking like a group of abominable snowmans. The snow stuck in our hair, our eyelashes, soaked through our uniforms, and generally made practice miserable.  
  
It was after one of these practices that Jacob brought up Valentine's Day. It was the beginning of February, after all. We were sitting in the common room, by the fire, wrapped together in a blanket that he had found somewhere (he didn't say where he had got it and I didn't question him).  
  
"So," he said, setting down his Ancient Runes homework, "Valentine's Day is in a week and a half."  
  
I knew immediately what he was trying to get at.  
  
"And..." I replied slowly. "There's a Hogsmeade visit the weekend before."  
  
"Which is this Saturday," he said.  
  
"Yep," I said. "So.. what are we going to do? Are we going to sit in Madam Puddifoot's with all the other couples all day?"  
  
Jacob grimaced and shook his head very quickly. "I've never been in Madam Puddifoot's, but from what I saw of it last time it doesn't look like a place I'd ever want to be in."  
  
"How could anyone want to go in there?" I asked no one in particular as I leaned against his shoulder, ignoring my Potions essay.  
  
Thankfully, we never ended up going in there. Instead we walked around: to Honeydukes (more chocolate), went to the Shrieking Shack (or the outside, anyways), and just enjoyed each other's company in general.  
  
  
"You know," Jacob said lightly as we stood at the outskirts of Hogsmeade, "I feel sorry for all the guys who got dragged into Madam Puddifoot's and ended up sitting there all day."  
  
"I feel sorry for the girls who could be doing other things," I replied.  
  
He laughed. "Like what?"  
  
I shrugged. "Anything but sitting in Madam Puddifoot's."  
  
We went back into Hogsmeade proper, and stopped in Scrivenshaft's for some quills and ink bottles.  
  
"What about this one?" Jacob asked wickedly, holding up a bright pink quill with a long, sharp tip.  
  
I looked at it in disgust. "I don't think so," I told him, shaking my head. "If that was the last quill available I'd memorize the lesson."  
  
"Don't you think that's a bit harsh?" Jacob asked, grinning at me.  
  
I shook my head as I walked to the counter with the quills and ink pots I had chosen. "Nope, I don't think so."  
  
We walked out of the store and inhaled sharply. Scrivenshaft's was nice and warm, but it was extremely cold outside. With lots of snow.  
  
Jacob looked at a snowbank between Scrivenshaft's and Honeydukes. "Just like back in Canada," he said cheerfully. "Too much snow."  
  
"Is there a lot of snow in Canada?" I asked, having never been there.  
  
"Oh, yes," he replied. "Quite a lot."  
  
As we started on the walk back to the castle I took the opportunity to sneak a few glances at my boyfriend (and then admit to myself that, happy as it made me to be able to say that, I hadn't fully gotten used to it yet). The way his his light brown hair rose slightly at the front. The one freckle he had, by the corner of his mouth, that seemed on the verge of splitting in two whenever he smiled. Little quirks that I loved completely.  
  
We reached the train station, where the carriages that we had taken down were sitting, seemingly abandoned.  
  
"Do you want to wait here," Jacob asked me, "or do you want to walk back up to the castle by ourselves?"  
  
I shrugged. "What the heck. Let's walk." We strode past the carriages and onto the path that led up to Hogwarts. I switched the bag of quills from Scrivenshaft's into my left hand. Jacob was walking on my right and I slipped my gloved hand into his as we walked.  
  
"So," I began, "are you having a good Valentine's Day?"  
  
He smiled, a giant grin that lit up his face. "Absolutely." He sobered up. "It's certainly a heck of a lot better than Valentine's Day last year."  
  
I started to open my mouth to ask him what he was talking about, then stopped, remembering the conversation we had had before we had started dating. I remembered him telling me about the girl who had cruelly turned him down and felt nothing but anger towards her. I thought about how Jacob must have felt this time last year, seeing all the happy couples - seeing her with her boyfriend - and feeling like absolute crap.  
  
"You don't need to think about that at all," I told him firmly. "That happened a year ago, in a country you no longer live in. It doesn't need to affect you."  
  
He didn't appear too convinced by what I had said and simply nodded as we plodded our way through the snow back to the castle.  
  
When we got to the castle it was nearly empty, aside from the first and second years who weren't allowed to go due to their (lack of) age. The Gryffindor common room had a lot of people in it: namely, all the first and second years who were using the opportunity of all the older students being away to finally get to sit by the fire.  
  
Instead of turfing them out we went up to our separate dormitories and grabbed some homework we had to do. Finishing essays might not be the most romantic thing to do on Valentine's Day (actually, it was so low in romanticism it didn't even get a rung on the Cute Valentine's Day Things ladder), but it had to be done. Along with my homework (a History of Magic essay for Binns and an Herbology diagram for Neville) I picked up a box of chocolates that we had bought in Honeydukes.  
  
We went down to the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table. The library might have been slightly quieter, but Madam Pince would've confiscated the chocolate before we could say broomstick. We sat down opposite each other, with the chocolate off to one side and our respective homework in front of us. With our hands clasped in each other's, we ate the occasional chocolate and contentedly finished the homework that we needed to do.    


	24. Careers Advice (Jacob)

"So," Declan said, "our next game is against Slytherin, in two weeks." He looked at us as we collectively groaned, taking off our Quidditch gear. He had led a gruelling practice and I was extremely sore. "We're ahead of them in the standings because they lost to Ravenclaw, but I don't think we can afford to underestimate them. They've got a good team."  
  
"Their team is good because they practice at 2 o'clock in the fucking morning," Jason Bonham grumbled to himself.  
  
"They don't practice at 2 in the morning," Declan said severely. "That's when you go to bed, Jason. Maybe exhaustion is causing you to hallucinate. You might want to check on that."  
  
Absolutely exhausted, we trudged out of the change room. I was not looking forward to the hike all the way up to the common room. Go figure that the change room would be one side of the grounds and our common room would be on the top of the castle, on the other side of the grounds. It might be easier to just fly up to the common room on my broom, knock on a window, and hope that someone would let me in.  
  
"That practice was just cruel," Lily complained beside me. "And now we all have to walk all the way back to the common room. I think I'm going to go sleep for a thousand years. Screw our Ancient Runes homework."  
  
"And patrol," I reminded her.  
  
"Jacob." She sounded like my mother when she would get mad at me for doing something I wasn't supposed to be, but I knew she was joking. "Don't remind me of that; you'll foil my secret plan to find a way to have a month-long nap."  
  
"How on Earth are you going to do that?" I asked incredulously. Lily shrugged.  
  
"I don't know," she said. "I told you, I'll find a way."  
  
"This is how you become famous," I joked. "Lily Walker, currently doing whatever it is you want to do after Hogwarts, originally well-known for inventing the Monthly Duration Sleeping Potion. She used it to avoid doing her homework during her O.W.L. year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."  
  
"Hey," she protested, "I haven't avoided my entire O.W.L. year - I'd just like to not have to do April, May, and June, as that's O.W.L. cramming months and they'll be no fun. Also, I'd like to do something related with Magical Law Enforcement, and I'm sure I could tie a sleeping potion into my job somehow."  
  
Mentally, I exhaled deeply, relieved she hadn't commented on my attaching my surname to her name. She hadn't told me anything about wanting to work in the DMLE - or about wanting to get married either, come to think of it - so it come as a bit of a surprise to me.  
  
"You want to be work in Magical Law Enforcement?" I asked her.  
  
"Yes," Lily answered. "I want to actually do something with my life, instead of being a menial parchment-pusher at a desk job somewhere else."  
  
"Quidditch isn't something?" I asked, surprised. I had thought that she'd enjoyed Quidditch.  
  
"Oh, it is, don't worry about that." She hastened to reassure me, seeing the look on my face. "I love Quidditch. I just don't think I'd play it professionally. First of all, professional Quidditch is a lot more intense than it is here at Hogwarts. Practices are longer, more often, and more intense. Also, the skill level of the players goes up dramatically. Being good enough to play on a house Quidditch team is one thing, and isn't that hard, to be honest. Being good enough to play for a major Quidditch team, earning enough money to make a living, is a completely different topic."  
  
"I might play Quidditch professionally," I said, musing. "I'm not 100 percent sure what to do with myself after school, to be honest."  
  
We reached the common room and entered. "Hey, look," Lily said, heading over to the noticeboard at the edge of the carpet, "What a coincidence." I walked over to see what the heck she was talking about and looked at the noticeboard.  
  
"Fifth years: careers advice sessions are next week," I read. "Sign up at a time below for your careers session with Professor Longbottom." We both signed up at random slots; Lily at the very beginning, me near the end. Signing up near the end would give me a bit more time to figure out just what I wanted to do after I graduated. I didn't think that walking in and telling Professor Longbottom "I have absolutely no idea what I want to do" would be very well received; although he would probably just shake his head and roll his eyes before helping me narrow my options down, I wanted to actually be prepared.  
  
There were a bunch of leaflets on the table beside the noticeboard; I started thumbing through them, looking to see if there was anything that interested me.  
  
Wizengamot clerk - nope. I'd be fired the first day. I could already see my boss: _"Mr Walker, you understand that we do not permit our employees to sleep during court sessions?"_  
  
Dragon handler. Hahahaha. I didn't think so. First of all, I didn't take Care of Magical Creatures. Second, "let's look after the giant, fire breathing dragon" is extremely dangerous. I don't like extremely dangerous things. At least with humans you can try and guess what they're doing.  
  
Quidditch referee. That sounded interesting. I took the leaflet and put it in my pocket. Beside me, I noticed Lily looking through the leaflets provided by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had some in her left hand: Auror, Hit Wizard, Magical Patrol, and she was looking at a leaflet for Magical Customs.  
  
"Okay," she said, looking up at me, "I think I'm good."  
  
"Weighing your options?" I joked.  
  
"Yep," she said as we walked up to my dormitory.  
  
"Magical Patrol, Magical Customs, Hit Wizard Section, and an Auror leaflet," I said. "Gee, you really like law enforcement, don't you? Do you like law enforcement men?" I waggled my eyebrows as we both sat down on my bed.  
  
Lily grabbed the pillow off my bed and hit me with it. Not hard enough to hurt, but not lightly either. Before she could hit me again I grabbed my other pillow from the floor where it had fallen, to defend myself. She hit my pillow, knocking my off balance and onto my back. My pillow came out of his hands and fell on the floor.  
  
"You know," she said, sitting on me, "you seem to be at a bit of a disadvantage here."  
  
I reached for my pillow, trying unsuccessfully to grab it in my hand but it was too far away.  
  
"And," she added, "you also said that you wanted to work in Quidditch after you graduated, not magical law enforcement."  
  
"Yeah," I said, "maybe I just wanted to tease you." I abandoned my attempt at trying to get my pillow and knocked Lily's out of her hand instead.  
  
"And why would you want to do that?" she joked lightly, suppressing a laugh.  
  
I shrugged. "Because I can. Because I enjoy being a royal pain in the butt."  
  
"You're something, that's for sure," Lily said, rolling her eyes as she grinned.  
  
"Hey!" I said loudly.  
  
*  
  
Time passed, and soon it was March - the snow melted, leaving puddles upon puddles everywhere. Looking at it, you would have thought that there were bunches of little ponds all over the place; the Great Lake surrounded by lots of not-so-great-lakes.  
  
As we got closer to the Easter holidays our homework pretty much doubled. Anyone who wanted to get in a workout only had to carry their homework from the common room to the library to get some work done. The effort of carrying all of their textbooks, plus parchment, ink, and quills meant that you arrived in the library exhausted.  
  
Aside from Quidditch and patrol, the library was where Lily and I spent the vast majority of our time, trying to finish the giant piles of homework that were piled on us every day.  
  
"Why are they doing this to us?" I groaned one night, setting aside a finished Potions essay. "How am I supposed to decide what I want to do with myself when my sole desire is for a nap?" My careers advice session with Professor Longbottom was the next day.  
  
"It's preparing you for the real world," Lily informed me, working on her own essay.  
  
"The real world of a Quidditch seeker involves essays?"  
  
"It might involve paperwork," she replied. "Magical law enforcement definitely will."  
  
"How?" I asked. "You just catch the guy and stick him in jail."  
  
"Yeah, and then you have to fill out arrest paperwork, complete a report for the trial, complete a wand use form if they didn't come quietly, fill out a form if you think they should be denied bail, and duplicate it all for their defense attorney. The fun might last fifteen minutes but you then spend five hours writing things down."  
  
"And how do you know all this?" I asked her, smiling.  
  
"Dad may or may not complain about it," she said. "Are you done?"  
  
I looked at the pile of finished work beside me. "Yes, both mentally and in terms of work."  
  
Lily laughed as we gathered up our stuff to head back to the common room before curfew started and we had to patrol. We dumped our bags (with homework in it) and walked down to the kitchen to grab a snack - a buttered bun each.  
  
"So what was your careers advice session like?" I asked Lily as our patrol began. We were walking out into the Entrance Hall courtyard down to the boathouse; there had been a bunch of people caught sneaking back to their common rooms in the middle of the night.  
  
She shrugged. "It was okay, I guess. I walked in and sat down, he asked me what I wanted to do after Hogwarts. I told him something in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and he recommended what I should and shouldn't take next year."  
  
"And?"  
  
"No more Arithmancy or Ancient Runes for me," she replied, sounding happy. "I'm not sure why I took them in the first place - I think I've been spending too much time around Aunt Hermione."  
  
"You should've taken Divination," I said, laughing.  
  
"Um, no," she told me. "You've never heard my uncle Ron complain about it but he says that it was really boring. If I want to sleep I'll go to bed, not to a class."  
  
We walked down to the boathouse, found one couple doing things that they most definitely should not have been doing, kicked them out, and went back up to bed.  
  
"You know," I said as we approached the common room, "I liked the whole prefect idea when it was a new thing, but now that all it amounts to is less sleep at night, it's not so fun."  
  
"Oh well," Lily replied. "I guess it'll look good on a job application, being a Prefect."  
  
"Yeah, I suppose," I said, "although does that really matter for professional Quidditch?"  
  
"Probably not," Lily agreed. "I guess the only thing that matters for professional Quidditch is your flying ability. Chocolate Frogs." The portrait hole swung open to let us into the common room.  
  
The next day, I left Lily early at lunch for my careers advice meeting with Professor Longbottom in his office. Other than what Lily had told me I wasn't really sure what to expect. I didn't know what his reaction would be to me telling him about my desire to play Quidditch professionally would be.  
  
As it turned out I didn't have to worry. As soon as I walked in he motioned me to a chair opposite his desk and offered me a ginger newt.  
  
"So, Jacob," he asked, "have you done any thinking about what you want to do career-wise after Hogwarts?"  
  
"Yes," I said. "I'd like to become a professional Quidditch player."  
  
"Okay," Professor Longbottom said, "that's very ambitious. Now, while I'm not sure about any academic requirements that the British and Irish Quidditch League has, but you'll need to be very good at Quidditch, obviously. I'd suggest participating in a league during your summers off, and practicing as much as possible during the school year while still keeping your marks up." He paused for a second, thought of something else, and added, "If you don't become a Seeker, would you be content as a reserve or would you want to start a career somewhere else?"  
  
"Do I have a back-up plan, do you mean?" I asked.  
  
"Yes," he said.  
  
I thought a bit. I'd never really imagined doing anything other than Quidditch. "I don't know," I told him. "I'd like to do something active. I really don't want a desk job for the rest of my life."  
  
"Were you thinking of something like Magical Law Enforcement?" he asked. "I know that's what Lily told me."  
  
Lily. If I didn't play Quidditch I could work with her. Would that be allowed, though? Would my reaction towards someone be the same if they'd just injured my girlfriend? Most definitely not.  
  
"I guess," I said, spreading my hands. "Quidditch has sort of been the only thing I've ever really considered doing."  
  
"Okay." Professor Longbottom scratched his beard. "Looking at your timetable," - which he had in front of him - "you won't need Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. They'll just give you homework that will just stress you out and won't accomplish anything in the long run anyways. Are you interested in magical history at all?"  
  
"Not really," I said.  
  
"Okay, then you can drop that too. So next year you'll be taking what are considered the "core subjects": Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and Herbology, which are all you need for a Magical Law Enforcement career." He held up a piece of parchment. "I just found this. It's a list of entrance requirements for the British and Irish Quidditch League. It says nothing about academics and just mentions skill. And since you can't drop everything and just play Quidditch-"  
  
"What a pity," I said. "Sorry, Professor."  
  
"Yes, unfortunately," he laughed. "You do have to have some academics in your schedule." He looked around his office. "I think that's everything. Do you have any questions?"  
  
"No, professor," I said. "Thank you."  
  
"See you later, Jacob," he said. "Off to class, now."  
  
I walked to Transfiguration considerably happier than when I had left Lily at lunch. There was absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, I had a bunch of homework, but it was all stuff I knew how to do. I wasn't struggling with anything. I had Lily, and Alexandra was dead. Everything was great.  
  
*  
  
Alexandra Walker lay on the beach, absolutely exhausted. She let the rain hit her hair and face as she savoured the feeling of the ground beneath her. It had been a long, hard swim from where she had fallen in, but she had preferred to take her chances instead of being locked up for the rest of her life.  
  
She slowly rose to her hands and knees and vowed to make it back to her former supremacy. Except this time her anger wouldn't be focused on Harry Potter. It would be focused on his daughter and her friend. Lily Potter and Jacob Walker - who were most likely dating now, not that she cared - were the highest targets on the list. She wouldn't make any mistakes this time. Yes, it would take her years to recover, but she would do it.


	25. Easter (Lily)

As it came closer to Easter we were bombarded with even more homework, which none of us had previously thought possible. It seemed like the teachers had suddenly remembered a whole bunch of stuff they had forgotten to teach and were panicking because we had to know it for exams.

We had so much homework that even Quidditch practice became stressful; spending 2 or 3 hours out on the pitch meant that you had to spend that time inside doing work afterwards. By the time we got off for Easter break all of the fifth years had developed a running joke: "What are you doing for Easter?" "Not my boyfriend/girlfriend because I have too much homework." Jacob and I didn't have any plans for that sort of thing, even if we weren't going to be buried under Transfiguration essays for the entire break.

It was pouring rain the day Easter break started, which was great for the flowers but not so great for those of us who got soaked on the way to the train. Jacob and I found a compartment by the back of the train and sat down. Albus, Rose, and Scorpius had promised to join us later but for now it was just the two us.

As the train pulled out of the station I leaned against Jacob's shoulder and closed my eyes. I felt blissful and content. Yes, there was homework that I should probably be doing, but there was the whole break for that. I wanted to at least enjoy some part of break without always having my face in a textbook or a piece of parchment writing an essay.

About fifteen minutes later, the door squeaked open and I heard the sound of footsteps. "Cute and snuggling," I heard Rose say. "Keep it clean, please, I still want to have working eyeballs by the time we get home."

I opened my eyes. "Rose. Pot. Kettle."

"What's a pot?" Scorpius asked, his arms wrapped around Rose's waist. See: definitely the pot calling the kettle black.

"It's a Muggle expression I picked up from my dad's cousin's kids," I said. "I'm calling Rose a hypocrite for asking us to tone it down when I can't even tell whose limbs are whose." I raised my eyebrows.

"Hey, we're not even doing anything that bad!" Scorpius protested.

"As compared to what, your usual amount of bad?" Jacob joked.

"I swear, Scorpius," I added, shaking my head, "if Uncle Ron ever found out what you and Rose have been doing together..."

"You'd probably want to run far, far away," Albus broke in. "Go live in Albania and become a hermit."

"Eh," I said, "he'd probably find you anyways."

"Come on, guys." Scorpius shook his head as he and Rose sat down on the seat beside Albus. "What did I ever do you you?"

"A lot," Albus deadpanned.

Still leaning against Jacob, I stared out the window. The train had started moving a long time ago and all I could see was the same thing over and over again: trees, rocks, fields. Trees, rocks, and fields.

Not interesting at all.

"Anyone have Exploding Snap cards?" I asked casually.

"I do!" Albus exclaimed. "Anything to take my mind off being the only single one in the compartment."

"That's not any of our faults," Jacob protested, shifting his weight on the seat as Albus pulled the Exploding Snap cards out of his bag.

When we pulled into King's Cross I leaned into Jacob and said, "Promise me you'll write."

"Of course I will," he replied. As the train came to a stop in the station he kissed me quickly before we both stood up to get our trunks from the overhead compartment. "And who knows, we might end up seeing each other over break anyways."

"Or we could just meet up in Diagon Alley like normal people," I joked as we made our way onto the platform. "It's not that hard to coordinate, you know."

He laughed. "I know. I just have the feeling that we'll both be buried under a mountain of homework and won't be able to meet up."

Unfortunately, he was right. I spent that first day catching up with my parents and James. James had been living at home with them since he had been released from St Mungo's and was, fortunately, doing a lot better. Seeing him made me very happy that Alexandra was dead. He was able to walk and move around just fine but his arm (the one that Alexandra had savaged) was pretty much useless and was horribly scarred. James's boyfriend (who I had never met before) had, according to James, spent a lot of time helping and would be dropping by over the break.

You know, when I would be closeted in my room doing homework.

I was looking forward to meeting James's boyfriend but I also wanted to finish some of this work that we had been assigned to do over the break. The first night I made a list of everything I needed to do and it filled two sheets of parchment. Once I was done stressing over everything I had to do I started with the little stuff. Reading one chapter of this book for Herbology, reading two chapters of that book for Defense.

During the middle of the week James got an owl from his boyfriend and let us know that he was going to drop by Friday night, the day before we were going to Grandma's for dinner. After 4 days of being a complete recluse I was about a third of the way through the homework, but I didn't feel like doing any more.

With dad's urging I owled Jacob to see if he would be willing to floo over and join us for dinner. He replied back saying he was free, and that he'd be coming around at about 6.

James's boyfriend, a man named Kieran Boulstridge floo'd in around 5. He was sort of average-looking: slightly taller than I was, about half a foot shorter than Jacob, with messy brown hair and glasses.

"You must be Lily," he said, holding out his hand once he'd brushed soot from the fireplace off his robes. His handshake was firm without crushing my fingers. He had an honest, frank look about him; I liked him immediately.

James came in from the kitchen and wrapped his good arm around Kieran's neck as they kissed. Albus, from where he was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room, protested, "Hey, guys, can we please not..."

"Albus," I said, "if you can tolerate Rose and Scorpius you can tolerate them."

"Well, James is my brother," he said.

"Rose is your cousin," I reminded him. "And you don't see me sitting here pouring bleach into my eyes, do you?"

"Yeah, well, you've got a boyfriend. You're used to it," Albus retorted.

"Lily, you have a boyfriend?" James asked.

"Yes," I said. "Didn't you hear Dad and I talking about him earlier?"

"Nope," he replied. "Is he cute?"

I paused and stared at him. "Yes."

"Is he going to do anything that would make me have to hex him?" he asked.

"No, of course not," I said.

"That's because I'll be the one hexing him," Mum said, walking in from the kitchen.

There was the sound of whooshing from the fireplace. "Who's getting hexed?" came Jacob's voice. "Hopefully not me."

I cleared my throat. "My, um, overprotective brother and mother were making jokes."

"Ginny Potter," my mom, said, stepping forward.

Jacob shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mrs Potter."

Dad popped in from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

"What is it?" Albus asked.

"Food," Dad replied promptly.

"Well," Albus said, "with your cooking you can't really be sure."

"Hey," James said, "at least Dad never set the curtains on fire while making pancakes."

"That was once!" I protested.

"Lily," Jacob said, sounding very amused, "what did you do?"

"I was making pancakes the summer before second year and I may or may not have accidentally set the curtains on fire," I said. James laughed and I added, "It was an accident!"

"You were an accident," Albus muttered. I smacked him upside the head.

"Hey, Jacob," Dad said as we sat down, "do you want to know what other embarrassing things Lily did when she was younger?"

I put my face in my hand.

*

"So, Jacob," Mum said after dinner, "what do you think about sleeping over?"

"I'd love to, Mrs Potter," he said, glancing at me, "but where am I going to sleep?"

"With me," I said immediately.

"Absolutely not," Mum and Dad chorused together.

"Why not?" I demanded. "What, do you think we're going to do something?"

Jacob turned a deep red.

"Yes," Dad said.

"We're not going to be doing anything other than sleeping," Jacob said.

"Even though you're as red as a tomato?" Mum pointed out.

"Yes."

Dad sighed. "Well, I suppose since James and Kieran are sleeping together..."

I had spent quite a bit of time cleaning my room earlier today, getting rid of stuff, organizing the piles of books that lay around everywhere, and taking the mass of plates down to the kitchen. I didn't really want my room looking like Albus's (aka like a bomb had gone off).

"Well," I said, flouncing onto the bed, "that was rather embarrassing."

Jacob sat down beside me. "I can't see you cooking pancakes."

I leaned into him. "That's because I haven't since I failed dramatically at doing so." I looked up at him from where we lay on the bed. "Besides, I can probably guarantee that you've done some embarrassing things in your lifetime too."

"I have," he conceded.

"Like..." I pressed.

"When I was five we were having brussels sprouts for dinner and I absolutely hated brussels sprouts. I threw a temper tantrum, demanding that we have cake instead."

"For dinner?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, well, I was five. When my parents naturally refused my demand for cake I transfigured my brussels sprouts into a chocolate cake."

"That's not that embarrassing."

"Well, I don't want to tell the super embarrassing stories, because then you might not take me seriously anymore."

"You're just afraid your girlfriend's going to laugh at you," I said.

"Well, you will!"

"Yeah, maybe, depending on what you did," I conceded. "What exactly did you do?"

"So, in Canada before we started at Snowvale we went to a Muggle school until we turned 10. It was how we learned to read and write, but it sure caused a lot of problems. There was an Obliviator in pretty much every other week."

"How did that system last without anyone complaining?" I demanded.

"Nobody knows," Jacob said. "This resulted in a lot of situations where magic was used inadvertently because, of course, at that age we couldn't control it. There were plenty of times where I turned someone's hair a different colour because he was annoying me."

"The most memorable occasion of wizardry and Muggles not mixing is when I was in kindergarten. My teacher went to the office for something - a list, paper, to use the photocopier, I don't remember what - and when she came back I had made the whole class sit on the carpet and I was reading them a story. It was dead silent."

"How is that a problem?" I asked.

"The problem is that the story was _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_. My parents were not impressed."

"Okay, how did that not violate the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy? Like... surely somebody complained at some point?" I yawned.

"Oh, probably," Jacob said, "but it would have been after I started at Snowvale. I haven't heard anything about it since."

I yawned again. "I think," I mumbled sleepily, "I need to go to bed." I leaned against Jacob, using him as a pillow as he was blocking my actual pillow.

*

I woke up in the morning with a giant kink in my neck. I was all by myself in the bed for some reason. Groaning, I rolled over, got dressed, and went downstairs.

Dad was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and the morning's edition of the _Daily Prophet_. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," I replied. "Where did Jacob go?"

"Your mother sent him home," he replied. "As soon as your brothers get their butts out of bed we'll be heading over to Grandma's."

I grabbed a croissant from a plate on the counter and started buttering it. "What time is it?"

Dad checked his watch. "About ten. I told Grandma we'd be there around noon."

I took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Where's mum?"

"Her butt is also in bed." Dad drained his coffee and tossed the paper on the table. "So. I've been talking with a few of my fellow Aurors, and we're a bit concerned about the fact that nobody's found Alexandra's body yet."

"Didn't she fall into the North Sea?" I asked.  

"Yes, she did," Dad said, "but that doesn't really determine anything. Sirius swam through the entire North Sea when he escaped from Azkaban. I wouldn't put swimming through a quarter of it past Alexandra, had she survived. No, we need a body before we can be entirely sure."

I nodded, although I didn't entirely believe what he was saying. Alexandra was dead, body or no body. Although, as I thought about it at the brunch and on the way to the station before getting back on the train to go to Hogwarts, Dad might have been right. 


	26. The Quidditch Cup (Jacob)

It was May, and the Quidditch final was coming up. By the look of it, it would be us against Ravenclaw in the final. I was both excited and nervous for it. We had plenty of time to practice, as the final was at the end of the month.

And practice we did. Declan made us practice even more than we already had. I hadn't considered that possible. Between practice, class, and Prefect duties, Lily and I barely had any time to be alone, just the two of us. Muttered snatches of conversation here and there didn't count.

I was extremely nervous the day of the final game. We all sat at the Gryffindor table and pushed our food around our plates, unable to eat. The rest of Gryffindor house sat beside us, and their red and gold banners and lion hats were, to be honest, making me even more nervous. I really didn't want to let my house down.

As we walked to the change room to put our uniforms on, Lily slipped her hand into mine.

"I really want to win this," I told her.

"I know," she said. "We will, don't worry."

In the change room, Declan began his speech while we were changing, not bothering to wait. "So, guys," he began, "this is my last year, and my last chance to win the Quidditch cup. I know we've won it the past two years; let's make it three in a row. We're only twenty points behind Ravenclaw in the standings; we can easily catch up to them." He picked up his broom. "We've got three awesome Chasers, not to toot my own horn or anything, a Keeper who won't let anything in, two Beaters who won't let the Ravenclaw Chasers near the Quaffle, and a Seeker who's going to easily outshine the Ravenclaw Seeker." He turned towards the entrance. "Let's do this."

We all took hold of our brooms and walked out onto the pitch.

It was pouring rain, of course, and I could barely see ten feet in front of me. Catching the Snitch in this weather was going to be a pain in the ass, and I could see this match going on for a long time.

"The Gryffindor team is on the pitch," said Lysander Scamander. "Chasers Fowler, Potter, and Bonham, Keeper Bennett, Beaters Quintin, Grey, and Seeker Walker. They're facing the Ravenclaw team, consisting of Chasers Urquhart, Macdougall, and Lynch, Keeper Stevens, Beaters Jewkes and Alderton, and Seeker Thrussington."

Declan and the Ravenclaw captain shook hands, and I pinpointed out the Ravenclaw seeker. She was a short girl with glasses. That was good for me; hopefully her glasses would get foggy with rain so she'd be unable to see out of them.

Not that anyone was going to be doing much seeing in this weather.

I was already soaked when I took to the air, flying above the Chasers and Beaters to hover opposite the girl as Madam Hooch released the Snitch and Bludgers into the air. Then, finally, she tossed the Quaffle up into the middle of the Chasers and the game was on.

I tried to keep high and out of the way of the Chasers and Bludgers so I could try and fruitlessly look for the Snitch. I could barely see anything.

"That's Potter with the Quaffle for Gryffindor. She dodges a Bludger and passes it to Fowler. Fowler with the Quaffle now. He passes it to Bonham - intercepted by Urquhart. Urquhart with the Quaffle for Ravenclaw. He shoots - blocked by Bennett. Fowler with the Quaffle now - ouch!" The pain in Lysander's voice was apparent. "That Bludger looked like it hurt."

We scored four more times before Ravenclaw scored twice. After about two hours of play Declan called a time out.

"Okay, team," he said as we all huddled together, both for body warmth and because he was holding an umbrella, "we're leading this game but we're only tied in points. It's now 100-80 for us." He looked at me. "Jacob, have you seen the Snitch yet?"

"No," I answered, shivering. "I haven't seen anything yet. This rain sucks."

"Well," Declan said, "please see it soon so we can all go sit in front of the fire in the common room." We all laughed.

"Will do," I said.

We took to the air again. This time I decided to stay lower to the ground. I had no idea where the Snitch was going to be, but it was better to be able to be closer to everyone else.

As much as I loved Quidditch, to be honest, I was looking forward to the end of this game. Did I want us to win? Of course I did. But I also wanted some free time. I wanted to spend time with Lily, which was currently limited to Prefect patrols and sitting in class. I also wanted (or more accurately, needed to) study for O.W.L.s, which were coming up in a month. And I needed time to do the work that the professors were piling on us to prepare for those O.W.L.s.

As I flew around the edge of the pitch, something glinted at the edge of my vision, as far as I could see, near the ground. The Snitch! I went into a dive to catch it. As I got closer to it, I could see it more clearly. I extended by arm to grab it in my hand; I was only about six feet away from the Snitch now, and about ten feet off the ground.

I didn't see the Bludger until it was too late. There was a whoosh on my right side. I took my eyes off the Snitch to see what it was, and saw the Bludger about six feet away, and coming in fast. I tried to do a Sloth Grip Roll but I didn't have enough time to get under the Bludger, only enough time to turn sideways, and it hit me full on in the chest.

The pain was incredible. Breathing was agonizing. I involuntarily let go of my broom and fell the ten feet to the ground. That impact was extremely painful as well. My broom landed a few feet away from me, but I was in too much pain to focus on it. I just laid there, on my back, and tried to manage the agony.

Dimly, I heard Madam Hooch blow the whistle as Lily landed by my side.

"What happened?" she asked, concerned.

"Broken ribs, I think," I gasped. Even saying that hurt.

Madam Pomfrey rushed out to me. Gingerly, I tried to roll onto my side and stand up, but she pushed me back onto the ground. "No, you're going to stay there, Mr Walker," she said sternly.

"But I have to play!" I protested.

"Mr Walker," she said, running her hand quickly along my ribs (even that was excruciating), "you've got six broken ribs. You're not doing anything."

Wincing in preparation for the pain, I rolled onto my stomach and pushed myself up. "No, I'm going to keep playing," I said, picking up my broom. "We don't have a reserve Seeker. If I can't play then we'll lose, and it's the final." Without waiting for her to say anything, I kicked off from the ground. Lily followed along behind me and caught up.

"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" she asked, the worry evident in her voice.

"I'm sure," I said. "We can't lose because of me."

Madam Hooch blew the whistle, and the game was back on. We scored four more times as it started raining even harder - which I hadn't thought possible - and I welcomed the rain a bit. It gave me something to distract myself with, a way of ignoring my ribs. While I was determined to play on, it was probably a stupid idea. Merlin knows what would happen in the long run because of this. Hopefully nothing, and this would be futile if we lost anyways.

As time wore on I began to feel weaker. Breathing began to hurt more and more and there were times I thought I was going to faint. But I pushed on, determined to catch the snitch.

I flew around the Ravenclaw goal post, scanning for the Snitch so I could catch it and end the game. As I passed the last post, I saw the Ravenclaw Seeker go into a dive, the look of concentration on her face unmistakeable.

"Thrussington goes into a dive!" The excitement on Lysander Scamander's voice was obvious. Given that he was in Hufflepuff, I wasn't sure if it was because he was cheering for Ravenclaw or if her catching the Snitch meant that the game would finally be over.

But she wasn't going to catch the Snitch. I was going to. I went into a dive as well, urging my broom to go as fast as it could. I could up with Thrussington, and we were neck and neck. The Snitch was half the pitch away. Both of us extended our arms. I had the advantage here - I was taller and my arms were longer than hers were. My fingers closed around the Snitch half a second before her hand wrapped around my wrist.

I shook her hand off and peeled out of the dive, raising the Snitch above my head. The Gryffindor section of the stadium erupted in cheers as the rest of the team raced towards me. I landed on the ground and my vision went black.

*

When I woke up the first thing I noticed was the lack of pain. I just laid there with my eyes closed and relished the fact that I wasn't hurting anymore.

I could hear Madam Pomfrey arguing with someone. "No, you are not going to visit him. He broke six ribs and then kept playing, like a fool. He needs rest."

"He's my boyfriend," Lily said.

"That doesn't matter right now," Madam Pomfrey said. "You can come back later." There was the sound of footsteps, followed by the Hospital Wing door closing.

I opened my eyes.

"You're awake," Madam Pomfrey stated, looking at me. "Were you aware how stupid continuing to play on broken ribs was? You would have been in here overnight had you stopped playing like you were told." She sat down. "By continuing to play, you aggravated the injury. Three ribs are broken in three places; the other three are broken in two. You're going to be in here over the weekend to make sure that the rib fragments don't puncture your lung." She stood up again. "I gave you a painkilling potion for now, but once it wears off you'll be in pain again."

She was right. With nothing to do, I had to just lie there, stare at the ceiling, and suffer. Madam Pomfrey refused to give me any more pain potion. She said that I would develop a resistance to it. I thought she was punishing me for continuing to play after being injured.

By Sunday night, she deemed that it was safe enough for me to leave. She'd healed the ribs so they weren't broken anymore, but they were still massively tender and coughing hurt like hell.

By the time I got back to the Gryffindor common room, my chest felt like it was on fire. When I walked in there were cheers from people sitting at the tables and on the couches in front of the fire.

"Final score was 250 to 80," Declan said, getting up from the table he was sitting at and coming towards me. "How are you doing?"

"Six formerly broken ribs," I told him. He winced. "She made me stay over the weekend to make sure that they didn't pierce my lungs."

"How are you now?" he asked.

"Better. I'm still really sore," I admitted. "And tired. I couldn't sleep for the pain."

"Go get some rest," he said. "Lily had to patrol but when she gets back I'll tell her that you're out of the Hospital Wing."

"Thanks," I said. I headed up the stairs to my dormitory and gingerly sat laid down on the bed. It took a lot of tossing and turning - painful tossing and turning - to get to sleep.


	27. Ordinary Wizarding Levels (Lily)

Our whole house was astonished by the fact that Jacob had kept playing with a chestful of broken ribs. They offered to carry his books for him, did anything he asked, and in general tried to make his life easier. Jacob protested their help and said that he didn't need it but I could tell that he was grateful for it. Watching him, I knew that his ribs still hurt, even if they were physically healed. He would come to class or to the Great Hall wincing as he sat down and would he frequently need to take rests on our patrols.

Because we had won the Quidditch Cup we were in first place for the House Cup. Barring anything stupid the Great Hall would be decorated in Gryffindor red and gold at the End of Year feast at the end of June. 

It was the middle of May now, and with Quidditch done and behind us our main focus became our OWLs, which were at the end of June. We had, of course, already started revising, but with more time we were able to focus on it. We revised at meals, in the common room, and even on patrol (hey, there was nothing else to do!).

Gradually the exam dates came nearer and nearer and then eventually it was the day before our first exam, the Charms written. Jacob and I had both prepared as thoroughly as we could; we were ready for it, and wanted to get it over with. 

After dinner we were in the common room, practicing the Banishing Charm with the couch cushions. We just sent them into the corner and Summoned them again, but watching them fly around the room did, I had to admit, feel good for our nerves, which were shot after studying for exams. 

"Okay, I'm done for tonight," Jacob said, yawning. "Accio." He pointed his wand at the cushions and caught them with his other hand as they flew towards him. Placing them back on the couch, he gingerly flopped down and leaned his head back. "I think I'll just sleep here. I don't want to walk up to my dorm. Too tired." By the time I walked over to him he was snoring, and very loudly at that. 

Quietly going up to my own dorm, I found a cupboard at the end of the room and opened it. There was a blanket in it; I went back down and draped it over Jacob. He looked absolutely exhausted and there was no way that I was going to wake him up and make him go to bed. 

The next morning, we sat in the Great Hall at our table with our breakfast and a final parchment paper of notes before us. We both felt ready, or as ready as you could really be when trying to get ready for an exam that will have five years' worth of material on it. 

"I can't eat anything," I declared. "I'm not hungry."

Swamped beneath a pile of what looked like Arithmancy notes, Declan looked over at me. "Eat anyways," he advised. "If you don't eat now you'll regret it when you get into the exam."

I stared at the piece of toast on my plate. "I am repulsed by the thought of food right now. I'm too nervous."

"If you don't eat something," Declan added, "you'll do what I did in my History of Magic OWL two years ago."

"What did you do?" Jacob asked from where he sat opposite me. He, I noticed, was eating. He was halfway through a blueberry muffin and looked like he was enjoying it. 

"I didn't eat anything at breakfast because I was too nervous. Fifty minutes into the exam I couldn't focus on anything because I was so hungry. I ended up getting a P in History of Magic."

I made myself take a bite of toast. "Well," I said, swallowing, "it was History of Magic, so it's not like it was any great loss."

Declan shrugged. "Yeah, it might not have been, but it was still a disappointment all the same."

I set the toast down, half-finished. "I can't eat any more." I looked down at my notes one final time as the bell rang, signalling the end of breakfast and the start of our OWLs.

"I'm not ready," I said as I stood up, leaving the Great Hall with everyone else. The fifth years were congregating over in the corner, preparing to write the Charms written. 

"You never feel ready before an exam," Declan said, walking out with us. "Seriously, though, I saw how much you two studied. You'll be fine, and you'll feel fine as soon as you see the questions on the exam."

I wasn't convinced at all by what he said but nodded anyways and waited for the exam to start. 

Eventually the doors of the Great Hall opened and we entered. Professor McGonagall stood on the steps that led up to where the teacher's table would have been. On a table beside her was a pile of what must have been our exam scrolls.

"Welcome to your first Ordinary Wizarding Level," she said as we all found a desk to sit down at. "Please place a quill and one or two inkpots on your desk. That is all you will need for this exam. If you have a book bag with you it will go at the back of the room." She walked down a step. "Now, I hope that none of you will attempt deception or cheating on this exam. When you are caught - and you will be - the penalties are severe. Anyone who is caught using special quills - such as a Quick-Quotes Quill, or any quill that will allow you to make this exam easier - will be forced to repeat that course in fifth year after serving a lengthy suspension." 

"Now," she said, raising her wand and sending the exam scrolls towards our desks, "you may begin as soon as you unfurl the scroll. Make sure that you write your name on every piece of parchment you use and number pieces of parchment you use for long answer questions." She turned to a blackboard beside her and flicked her wand. "You have three hours."

I unfurled my scroll, looked at the questions on the first piece of parchment, and smiled to myself. I knew this. This exam, at least, was going to go just fine.

*

"How did you think that went?" I asked Jacob three and a half hours later. We were sitting outside under a tree after grabbing a couple of sandwiches from the kitchen.

He shrugged. "Well enough, although I think I completely blanked on that question about the Cheering Charm."

I racked my brain. "What was that question again? I don't remember it." If I had remembered it, it would have been through not having a clue what the answer was (which was, probably, why Jacob remembered it).

"It asked about the disadvantages of using it and why you shouldn't use it more than necessary," Jacob reminded me.

"Oh, that one," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich. A giant drop of mustard promptly dropped off the edge of the bread and landed in my lap. "Are you kidding me?" I muttered, staring down at my lap.

"What did you do?" Jacob, his arm draped over my shoulder, looked over at me, amused.

"I may or may not have stained my jeans," I said. He laughed and shook his head, smiling.

"It was an accident!" I protested, starting to laugh as well. "Come on," I added, "eat your own sandwich. Maybe you'll make a mess yourself."

He did so, and without spilling a drop of mustard onto his clothes. Wiping crumbs off his hands, he raised his eyebrows. "Nope," he said, "no mess."

What ended up being a mess, though, was our Arithmancy OWL. While Jacob and I had both studied, we went into the exam feeling like there was a lot we didn't know or understand, and left it feeling like we had earned, at the most, Acceptable.

Fortunately for both us, the rest of our exams went a lot more smoothly, aside from History of Magic, which would have been terrible no matter how much we had studied for it. We had chosen to focus on the more important subjects; the ones that we needed for the careers we wanted. And we did much better in these important subjects.

There were a few things that we joked about after exams were over. Jacob, in his Charms practical, tried to make a parrot tap dance and accidentally exploded it instead. In my Potions practical I stirred one of the potions one too many times and it, instead of turning the deep shade blue that it was supposed to, set itself on fire and started smelling like putrid eggs.

I still have no idea how that had happened. I just hoped that it wouldn't bring my mark down too much.

And then exams were over. I think everybody was extremely relieved walking out of the final exam, Ancient Runes. We were done for the year. No more stress, no more worry. We had a week to enjoy ourselves before the start of summer.

It was extremely hot that week, so we spent most of it in the lake, enjoying the coolness of the water. What we didn't enjoy so much were the mosquitoes and the deer flies that magically appeared when we went swimming.

"I don't suppose there's a Bug Repelling Charm somewhere?" I asked one day after throwing myself underwater in an attempt to avoid one particularly annoying fly.

Jacob shrugged. "Probably," he replied. He stood up on the rock he had been sitting on and dove into the lake.

"Your back is really sunburned," I said to him as he swam closer to me. "You look like a tomato."

He tried to twist in the water to take a look at his back and went under. Coming back up, he spit water out of his mouth and pushed his hair out of his face.

"That was dignified," I commented, finding a spot where I could touch the bottom and standing.

He shrugged and twisted again, this time taking a look. "Wow," he said. 

"I didn't think it was possible to get burned as badly as you did," I informed him.

"Well, now you've discovered a new area of the possible," Jacob replied wryly. "I didn't think I'd been outside shirtless long enough to get burned a little bit, let alone this bad."

"You could be the quintessential white person," Declan said, appearing out of nowhere in his own swim trunks. "Turns into a lobster after being in the sun for five minutes, then the burn goes away and you go back to being stark white." He jumped into the lake from the same spot Jacob had, cannonballing in and landing right beside him, throwing a whole bunch of water into his face.

"Eurgh!" Jacob complained, wiping water off his face. "Declan!"

Declan grinned and laughed at Jacob. His had, I noticed, tied his hair into a ponytail. I hadn't thought it was long enough for that. "I'm just enjoying my last week as a Hogwarts student," he said, suddenly looking sad, "by tormenting my old Quidditch team."

"Do you know what you're doing after you graduate, Declan?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

He shook his head. "Haven't a clue. I'd like to play Quidditch, of course, but that depends on how much I can impress the talent scouts later in the summer when they host tryouts. If they don't want me then I don't know what I'll do. Ministry of Magical Games and Sports, maybe. What about you two?"

"Quidditch too, hopefully," Jacob said. "Who knows, we could end up playing together again."

"Magical law enforcement for me," I said. After Alexandra and everything that had happened with her I had felt myself drawn towards it as a career.

Declan stared at me. "Do you know what area?" he asked. "Hit Wizard, Auror, Magical Patrol?"

"Not yet," I answered. "I'll see which one catches my fancy in the next two years and then apply from there."

"That's probably going to very competitive," Declan observed. "They'd only want the best, and I imagine they would only hire a few at a time."

"I know," I said. "I intend to be one of the best. Besides, that's before training, not after, so it's how well you can manage an interview."

"I think," Jacob announced, "that I am going to go back to the common room and find something for this burn."

"Aloe vera," Declan told him. "Or just, you know, a Sun Repelling Charm. That would have been a smart idea."

"Bit too late for that now, Declan," I deadpanned. "Although I think my lobster boyfriend now knows for next time."

"Hey!" Jacob exclaimed, getting out of the water and towelling off. "Just wait until you get burned."

"I don't burn," I proclaimed. "Even with my Weasley blood. Because I, unlike you, know how to use the Sun Repelling Charm." I hoisted myself out of the water and grabbed my towel, wiping myself off and then wrapping it around my hair like a hat.

Jacob looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "We have the whole summer to test that theory," he said.

"And for you to learn the Sun Repelling Charm," I added.

And just like that, it seemed, the year was over. Our week of bliss was done and we were soon packing clothes and books into our trunks to take home. I had to admit, part of me was more than ready for the summer to begin, but part of me didn't want the year to end. But end it did.

*

It was a gorgeous day with the sun streaming down and no clouds in sight. As we got onto the Hogwarts Express with our stuff I felt a bit nostalgic, to be honest.

Jacob and I found a compartment near the back of the train, where we would be away from the noise of the engine. It felt weird without Rose, Albus, and Scorpius, but they were back at Hogwarts preparing for their graduation ceremony.

As we sat down I started thinking. This time last year had been radically different from now. Last year Joseph had just broken up with me and I had been sort of wallowing in self-pity. I had been fine two weeks into the summer, though.

If you had summarized this year to last-year-me, I would have laughed. It seemed almost unreal. I would never have expected to fall in love with an absolutely wonderful (and handsome) transfer student whose sociopathic aunt would then, along with me and my family, try and kill. 

Actually, if you put it that way, this year sounded almost like a bit of a cliche. Like the ones you see in crappy novels. A hot guy pops out of nowhere and the main character falls in love with him. Cliche, maybe. But it happened to me.

I snuggled closer to Jacob and looked out the window at Hogsmeade Station as the train started moving past it. This, I thought, was how it ends. I probably couldn't have been any happier.


End file.
